


Nortufe Letter

by areyoufr



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 1988 setting, Carnivals, Fluff, Johnny Hates Jazz, Light Angst, Light-Hearted, M/M, demon guard!seungcheol, fortune teller!joshua, joshua hong predicts out of nowhere, seungcheol is confused on what a fortune teller is supposed to be, there’s a crisis in the underworld
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoufr/pseuds/areyoufr
Summary: Joshua, a fortune teller from a carnival, predicts futures for a living. Meanwhile, Seungcheol, a Demon Guard, covers up his predictions to preserve the safety of the Underworld (in slang terms, Hell).





	1. Pre:view

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This is connected to A Four Part Story (gyuhao) (a one-shot story of mine) though you don’t have to read it to understand this. 
> 
> BUT DO NOTE THAT SEOKHAN HAD A RELATIONSHIP
> 
> 2\. Crossposted on Wattpad
> 
> 3\. I’m also not sure how to post a fic here that’s multichaptered as of now so I guess there will be editing?? But of course nothing will change in the story

**Chapter 1**

**Summer of 1988**

Here are some points Joshua remembered to distinguish an Angel from a Demon:

1\. If they have horns on their heads. Any sizes are counted — none of them really matters, anyway. Horns are used for intimidation (and for getting things from the top shelf but Joshua pretended he didn't know that.)

2\. If there is a puff of colored smoke trailing behind them if they make use of "teleportation," although the power of teleportation isn't exactly obtained by many. The color of the smoke is barely visible to the average human eye as it disappears once it appears. If the puff of colored smoke is _red_ , it means they're _extremely powerful_. If it's a _violet_ , giving the illusion of them burning, their strength is a rank below _red_ and they are considered _intelligent_. If it's _gray_ , they are only _half-bloods_ , but it can mean that they possess a power that demons don't usually have because they're half-bred. If it's _green_ , they are the average demons; and majority of the population have green smoke. And lastly, if it's _brown_ , they're considered the weakest link — and usually they are the demon sinners.

2.2. Demon sinners are those who turn away from bad things. Angels, if you may, but before they turn into Angels, they get _caught_ , which gets them punished.

3\. Their pupils will have a color _based_ on their colored smoke.

4\. They don't really look like a human, unless they're half-breeds/half-blooded with gray colored eyes and smoke.

5\. There are some very simple human words that they can mispronounce. One of the most common examples of that word is: _Joshua_.

And in front of Joshua, is a brown-pupil-eyed man, with a top hat to cover his horns, but not his black hair. He just barged in Joshua's fortune telling booth a few seconds ago, standing awkwardly in his _too_ oversized denim on denim clothing, which caught the other's attention that forced him to pause _Shattered Dreams_ playing on the radio.

  
He had predicted yesterday that he had to buy a new radio soon. Joshua smiles upon seeing the demon stranger. Finally, a client, and a client means money.

  
"You must be a demon?"

  
The stranger asks warily, "How did you know?"

  
"Brown smoke, that was gone fast. Top hat. I'm also a fortune teller, so your presence was expected." He motions for him to sit down, and the stranger obeys, with a small _confused_ look on his face. "You must be a half-demon, although, that is kind of ruled out of the list since you have brown eyes."

  
"No. I'm a full demon."

  
"Why do you look human?"

  
"I'm a Demon Guard."

  
Demon Guards, as Joshua recalls, are guards for two opposing reasons — one: they are strong enough to protect; and two: they are also the weakest, and less important, so if anyone dies first, it's them. They're the "instructed" servants: listening to the brains before doing. Moreover, a demon guard becomes one also because of their appearance. Less demon-like, but not a half-bred — equals _that_.

  
"Okay, Demon Guard, d'you got any money? If you want me to do something, I don't do it for free."

  
"That's the reason why I was here. It says you're a. . ." He looks back, "a fortune teller. You're a teller who can. . . I don't know. . . give fortune? For me?"

  
Joshua stares at him.

  
"Who told you that?"

  
The stranger almost loses his composure. "No one. I totally just assumed."

  
The fortune teller rudely wanted to laugh. "Why?"

  
"Why? Because, um, fortune is equivalent to money? And you know, they call things like. . ." His eyes focus on the table. ". . . Tellers? Um, I mean, there are like Bank Tellers? So, you know, fortune means money, and you're a teller, so."

  
"That's, like. . . not my job." Joshua snickered, mentally debating whether he'll tell the stranger what it is, exactly. _But he's a client!_ his mind argues.

  
_No duh_ , he argues back to himself.

  
"But to just to make things clear; in our world, you get money by working; and when you work, you're supposed to find a job. I can't give you fortune, stranger, because first off — you're a client. And two — I have none to give."

  
The stranger nods stiffly.

  
"That means, fortune telling booths are not the place to get money."

  
The stranger quickly looks at Joshua's beat-up radio and Joshua finds him mumbling _Johnny Hates Jazz_. He's reading. Just like how Joshua predicted.

  
"What brings you here anyway, Demon?"

  
"I have a name." He scowled.

  
"Then what is it?"

  
"Why am I supposed to tell you? How will I know if I can trust you?"

  
"You tell _me_ , stranger, because I totally don't know anything that would make you do something as simple as saying your _name_."

  
"So much for your promises..." he murmurs, trailing off.

  
Joshua's ears perk up at that. That was the last line of _Shattered Dreams_. He has a _clue_ , and his mind works hard to recall a name from the first time he heard the song — he knew he heard one when he first listened. "I have a name, too, you know. It's written," he points at the name tag pinned on his clothes, " _here_. Take a look, Seungcheol."

  
The stranger gawks at him.

  
The fortune teller smiles mockingly. "It was just a guess, because I couldn't really remember, but it seems like I was right. _Johnny Hates Jazz_ wouldn't have played _Shattered Dreams_ if you weren't going to come."

  
"Wait, what? Remember? Have we met before?"

  
Joshua quickly realizes his mistake. Out of plain sight, he grabs a handful of purple dust — not prone to allergy, he knows — and throws it right in front of Seungcheol's face!

  
"No duh," he replies secretly to Seungcheol's question.

  
The purple dust slowly disappears from sight, and —

  
Seungcheol continues to stare stupidly. Like he didn't remember what just happened. Joshua resumed the conversation.

  
"I personally prefer _Turn Back the Clock_ , though."

  
"I don't understand a single thing..."

  
"Of course you don't, _and you won't_ , because between the two of us, it's _me_ who can see the future — and you're a brown-smoked Demon."

  
"Can see the wha—? You know, for a human, you're so rude."

  
"My rudeness is what sustains your economy. Watch your mouth."

  
"You're horrible."

  
"No _duh_ , Demon." Joshua puts his feet up, brushing his newly-bleached blonde hair with his fingers. "You know, I've seen this conversation of ours replay over and over in my head last week. I was like, _Gag me with a spoon, it's this again?!_ " he looks at Seungcheol's annoyed reaction, "And then here we are now. It's so funny to see it _happening_."

  
"J- _Jous-z_ — Jouzka."

  
"You also got my name wrong when I first predicted this!" He points a finger at him. "How fast time flies. Then I'm supposed to correct you, but of course I won't because I don't wanna follow what I saw in my own predictions."

  
"Jouz— _Jouzah_ — _J-JOSH_ —kah—"

  
"Keep on trying, my friend."

  
Seungcheol landed a fist on the folding table. "Just stop fooling around, Jou-zah!"

  
"Totally adorable."

  
Seungcheol is seething with anger: his face was stoic and he was letting out brown smoke. Something he hadn't seen before, so the blonde-haired fortune teller takes this as a bad thing. He puts his feet down and leans towards the table.

  
"Fine. Listen up, Seungcheol. You don't have any money, like me, so you have to put up with the real me. And anyway, what seems to be the problem and you're here? In the human world?"

  
"You've got your shit together, finally. I wanted to gag you with that stupid spoon you were talking about. But anyway." Seungcheol clears his throat. "We're going on an economic crisis right now, in the Underworld, and I'm planning to get human money so the Conscience Demons will get the people to sin."

  
"'Get human money'?"

  
"Yes!"

  
"Were you thinking of stealing from me so that's why you're here?"

  
Seungcheol scoffs. "Why are you asking? Aren't you supposed to know that because we had this conversation in your head already? _Sildep, how does this work?!_ "

  
Joshua ignores the last sentence. "Yeah, but like I said, I didn't follow through with the prediction. So you have to tell me what's up because we're taking a totally different route."

  
"Okay, so I was supposed to steal. I mean, that's our moral code. However, I don't know where I'm supposed to find money in the first place."

  
"Is this the Demons' only idea? Getting money to tempt people?"

  
He shrugs. "That's all what I was commanded to do by our leader."

  
"Which leader?"

  
"The military leader, in charge of all defenses and offenses, it's — _hey_ , I'm not supposed to tell you that!"

  
"You were almost going to."

  
Seungcheol sighs.

  
"You could've just lied to me, Demon."

  
"Don't tell me what to do, J. . ." he trails off.

  
" _Joshua_."

  
"Jou-kah."

  
Joshua prevents himself from grinning. "Nice try. Okay, moving on." He motions to the violet cloth that surrounded them, serving as the walls of the booth. "Do you know where you are outside of this?" The Demon Guard nods in reply. "You are at a carnival, right? And do you know what's the good thing about being in a carnival?"

  
"What?"

  
"There are a lot of people here. You have options on whom to steal money from."

  
Seungcheol shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "That's unfair... they have lives..."

  
Joshua's mouth drops, and he is starting to laugh. "You're _such_ an _angel_ —"

  
"SHHH! Don't say bad words!" Worry is evident in his tone. "And don't say it out loud, someone might hear and I might become a demon sinner! A demon guard is bad enough, a demon sinner is the worse!"

  
Demon sinners are those who turned away from the moral code (read: nice demons or demons fraternizing with "enemies") and Joshua could only imagine the things they go through as punishment.

  
He can also imagine what would happen once Seungcheol realizes his mistake, because he's nearly "fraternizing" with a human, an _enemy_.

  
"So basically, all you have to do is to _steal_ some money or _get_ some money, then your job is over?"

  
"Not quite. I mean, I _have_ to locate the money, and if possible, act as a human and attract anyone to... it... yeah, you know, I'm not really cut out for this human living. I'm more of a bag-checker and a protector, do you know what I mean?"

  
"A bag-checker? With what, a drumstick?"

  
"A _spear_ , Juu-kah, a spear!"

  
"And what do you do with that spear?"

  
"I stick it into their bags and check. I can say I'm pretty observant."

  
Joshua recalls Seungcheol noticing the radio and the cassette tape label. "Yeah, I've noticed you are pretty observant, too."

  
"However as I am the Guard, it's my duty not to let them down. I wouldn't really want to face an economic crisis. I mean, we always have a crisis in our world, but.. it's getting pure torture for everyone at this point. No food, no resources, no currency. We also can't ask for help for other... um, creatures, because our King is very... inclined to the independent creature mindset."

  
"And in order to raise the economy up...?"

  
"Other creatures have to sin even more. They say it's wrong, in human language, and sometimes half-breds or half-bloods even have an existential crisis with that one, but hey," Seungcheol shrugs, "that's just the way things are."

  
"Thank you for telling me that, Seungcheol."

  
"Uh, you're welcome, I guess, Juu-sha."

  
"Because you just told me your problems and I didn't even have to predict. Moreover," Joshua smiles mockingly, "I can't help you. You may now leave my booth."

  
"What?!"

  
"You may now exit."

  
"Wait, what are you going to do with the information I just disclosed?" Seungcheol points a finger at him. "Are you going to tell your human leader _that_ and erase our creature population?"

  
"Your imagination is lovely, Seungcheol. It's so lovely it's _false_." Joshua smiles, twirling a stray hair on his forehead. "But I am assuming you didn't have any education or orientation whatsoever—"

  
"Didn't you know that from the start?"

  
"I can see the _future_ , not the past. Catch up, doofus." Joshua rolled his eyes. "Okay, so I'm noting that. You weren't oriented. Here's how it goes — nobody knows about your existence here. Except for me and for a few others, I guess."

  
"—what?"

  
"Yes. That explains why you're instructed to _blend in_. That top hat and that clothing isn't an armor, Seungcheol, don't believe what your military leader told you. It's for blending in."

  
"Damn it. Stop acting like such a know-it-all."

  
"Why? Are you feeling bad that I'm better than you?" Joshua mocks. "I'm kidding."

  
Seungcheol scoffs.

  
"But anyway, to answer your question, I am not going to do anything with what you just told me. It just gives me an idea and context on what could possibly happen to you in the future."

  
"For what?"

  
"So I won't be wondering when I get to predict your creatures' future. I would get context, immediately."

  
Seungcheol sighs, shaking his head.

  
"You see, you would be wasting your time with me if you don't have money."

  
"Thanks for sinning, Jou-shak. You just helped our economy," Seungcheol says with a fake smile, "but this is capitalism."

  
"Like you know what that means."

  
"I—"

  
"I'm trying to help as much as I can, Seungcheol, to raise your stupid economy. Don't be such a sore loser when you reach the other end of the stick. Isn't so bad when others harm you, right?"

  
Seungcheol looks down. The fortune teller decides to conclude the interaction.

  
"My job, even without pay, is done. I did my best to sin." Joshua smiles with sincerity. "I hope you can make people sin more, Seungcheol."

  
And that ends their conversation on the summer of 1998.


	2. Pre:pare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Seungcheol is finally away from the “fortune teller,” or whatever that is, he is forced to go back in order to confront a possible problem.

Seungcheol swears he wouldn't go to that human fortune teller again. Stupid blonde hair, stupid face, stupid violet booth, stupid folding table, stupid radio, stupid Joshua. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  
(He doesn't understand what a fortune teller is! And that must be the root of this unnecessary hatred. But he wouldn't admit that.)

  
And stupid Seungcheol too for giving in to _gut pressure_. He almost gave away their leader's name! For badness' sake. Soonyoung would have his horns _off_ —and he might be banished as a demon sinner for a long time. The minimum time will be two hours, but it can last a lifetime of centuries after centuries.

  
_Centuries_.

  
And Seungcheol had done nothing but be a guard. Out of frustration, he entered back to the Underworld, empty-handed, almost forgetting his purpose. The blue sky transforms into a perpetual stormy red, and the crowded carnival fades into nothing. There are no more tall trees with leaves or humans in skateboards, no more striped shirts and laughter. He faces an enormous, castle-like building.

  
The prison.

  
The prison where all the demon sinners reside. It was ironic to him on why they get a luxurious place, and the Demon Guards only reside on smelly cabins. But after all, he reminds himself, they were only Demon Guards. Almost looked like humans, raised without education, but existed for protection.

  
He takes a different route and heads to the two-storey "cabin" — humans call it a house, but it's still a cabin — standing alone before a forest of leaf-less trees.

  
Seungcheol glares at the birds clinging on the trees, and some of them flew away, showing how thin and dead the trees are.

  
When he steps inside the home, there was nobody inside. Cleanliness was maintained, too, surprisingly. Seungcheol drops his top hat on the couch before sitting down.

  
_Sildep_ , he _hated_ being a Demon Guard. He _hated_ being at the lowest of priorities. He _hated_ being the one that everyone is okay with, dying first. He _hated_ being abandoned by his parents and being stripped off his rights to have proper education and a proper life. He _hated_ that he had trained all two-hundred years of his life, and in those years, nobody had to mention the application to real-life scenarios. The demon guards have to figure shit out for themselves.

  
And most of all, he hated being insulted because of something he lacked — _knowledge_. And education. But Seungcheol was born a demon, so he had to act like one. He had to act like it doesn't bother him, that it's okay if he doesn't have the privilege or advantage.

  
See, this is why they never improve. Because not everyone are given the privilege. And to those who are given privilege, they don't do _shit_. They do almost fucking nothing that would change what's so wrong with their system. Seungcheol does his utmost best to keep things running, to keep this place alive.

  
Today is not one of those days. Jush-ka was fucking exhausting, although helpful.

  
Then the radio beside him buzzes with energy.

  
_"Coups,"_ their official military leader, Soonyoung, called, _"thank you for raising the economy for about point five percent,"_ he doesn't know what that fucking means _, "but that was not what I instructed you to do. I am also applauding you for the sacrifice that you took — sacrifing your emotions and dignity for harsh words — but that behavior, if repeated, will get you jobless. I encourage you to just do what I say and find other methods next time, clear?"_

  
"All clear, Hoshi."

  
_"Good. But you still have to do what I instructed you. The deadline is the same."_

  
The call ends, and the radio is no longer buzzing.

  
Seungcheol hates this kind of life even more.

  
-

  
Before heading back to the human world, Seungcheol decides to head outside to go get himself something to drink. He steps out of the house, and sees Chan, all bloody, who is on his way inside.

  
"Task?" Seungcheol asks.

  
"Murder," Chan says tiredly, "a freaking dog."

  
"Horrible."

  
Chan wipes off dried blood on his arms. "Very. I had to check the library and bother some violet-smoked demon to read for me just so I can identify their kind."

  
Demon guards are slightly illiterate, too. Seungcheol learns a few words here and there, but not the entire vocabulary. He can read the words: _prison, cell, cafe, fortune, office, demon, sinner, and teller_ quickly, unlike the other ones.

  
But that is all what he has so far.

  
"Well, don't wanna be a sinner, but I am heading to the cafe. Want something?"

  
Chan smiles. "I don't want you to be a sinner, too, so I'm not letting you do me a favor."

  
"I'll just bring you the worst one."

  
"Deal."

  
The cafe, from where they live, takes a twenty-minute walk in Seungcheol's pacing. The grasslands and the bird-clinging-trees will slowly be replaced by gigantic shops and business, such as blacksmiths and apartments for rent. Stuff like that. Slowly, there were more demons and cars.

  
Mostly demons. Actual demons. Those who are eight-feet (and above!) tall, with horns of different styles and sizes, eyes of different colors, but slouched bodies in the same color: black. Seungcheol passes by those long-fingered creatures; all having their own world.

  
This is one of the nice things here, though, everyone politely minds their own fucking business _unless it concerns them_. Nobody hurts anyone, even Seungcheol, who is a tiny, almost six-feet in height, demon guard amongst the gigantic buildings and creatures.

  
Seungcheol waits for the light to become red, a signal that pedestrians can cross the street.

  
See? Fucking polite.

  
He reaches the gigantic, "trypophobia"-decorated cafe in no time, the one with the _somethingsomethinghecantread CAFE_ sign in big white letters amidst the black paint. The bell rings, and nobody looks up from their tables. The place is dimly lit, has a high ceiling, and as a complete contrast from outside, extremely warm.

  
"Hey," Seungcheol looks up when he gets to the counter. _The demon seems young_. He hasn't seen this one before. "Can I get the worst latte you have? Make it two."

  
"What an ill-mannered demon guard!"

  
Someone else overhears and they _tsk_ ed at him.

  
"Do it now, angel," Seungcheol says insultingly, with manners. The demon behind the counter — _green-eyed_ — smiles, sharp teeth showing. "That's more like it. And because you said I'm supposed to give you the worst ones, I won't. Of course."

  
"Whatever, then."

  
"Name?"

  
He is new, anyway, so. . .

  
"Marc," Seungcheol lies, "with a c, of course." Then he pays for what he ordered.

  
"Two best lattes, coming right up."

  
But when Seungcheol receives his order, he sees two coffee cups, well-decorated and everything, with a wrongly spelled names on both cups.

  
_Cark_ , it says, despite of the fact he clearly said _Marc_.

  
He looks up at the green-eyed demon, who was smiling. "Thank you for paying! That will surely make an impact on my useless life!"

  
When Seungcheol arrives at the house, Chan is nowhere to be found. He doesn't let him know that he already arrived, or that he has the coffee, but he places the coffee cup on the table for him to see.

  
Then the radio next to the couch buzzes.

  
_"Coups."_

  
"Yes, Hoshi?" He places the drink quietly on the table. "Is there anything I have to report to?"

  
_"Heaven and Hell Court. In the hall, out the court room. Now. Although the trial will happen at seven. I will be expecting you here before the trial."_

  
The Heaven and Hell Court is a "mediator" court room to settle both matters from the angels and demons. For most of the time, the demons are the ones there, due to so many cases. It is located in between Heaven and Hell — in the purgatory — but nobody knows where it is, exactly.

  
In the demon world, everyone simply teleports and suddenly, they're inside. On what's outside the place, or how its exterior appears, nobody knows.

  
Except for Chwe Hansol, the youngest Judge to ever rule in that court.

  
-

  
The Heaven and Hell Court looked the same even from a decade ago, the last time Seungcheol was here.

  
It still had high ceilings, the ends of it reaching a dark mirror and the floors that are the same. One can see themselves, although, darkly. The wide halls — and maybe even the Court Room itself — are colored in dark green, and every now and then there are pillars in gold and black.

  
Green, gold, and black. The colors of a perfect scare.

  
There are demons and angels scattered around in groups, and Seungcheol spots a demon with tall horns and a beret in between them — that's Kwon Soonyoung. Born looking like a human, was realized to have two faces, and now a constantly traveling military leader.

  
"What is going on here?" Seungcheol asks to Soonyoung once he arrived, sipping on his latte. "Some caught demon or something? A sinner?"

  
"It's Jeonghan," Soonyoung whispers to him. It alarmed Seungcheol. What? _Jeonghan?_ He was a red-smoked demon. One of the few powerful ones, and the only one who landed that high ranks through "clever laziness" and "unnecessary honesty."

  
But seriously speaking — it's impossible for Jeonghan — that _Yoon Jeonghan_ — to have a case in court. He handles things by himself, so there's no need for these.

  
"Yoon Jeonghan, sir?" He asks and Soonyoung nods. "What's with him?"

  
"He has a relationship with an Angel, named Lee Seokmin." _WHAT?!_ A relationship between an Angel and a Demon would require ONE of those populations to get entirely erased, save for a few. It was that _forbidden_. "However, Jeonghan's not here in Court. Refused to show up. So your task is to — you know — be one of those guards who forces the accused inside. You know, like the one in human movies?"

  
"With all due respect, Hoshi, I've been doing that for years."

  
"Then you'll be doing it again," Soonyoung says with a smile.

  
Seungcheol sips on his drink. "Wait! You did say Jeonghan had a relationship with an Angel."

  
"I did."

  
"Isn't that.."

  
"A calling for the end of a population, yes," Soonyoung agrees, "but the violet-smoked demons think this will barely make a dent in our lives. I think they're stuck-up and stupid. Just because Sildep's affair with that angel worked out doesn't mean it will too, for Jeonghan as a red-smoked. . ."

  
Sildep, their King, had an affair with an Angel two centuries ago. He was a horrible leader and Seungcheol wonders why he still has the throne.

  
"I agree, Hoshi."

  
Soonyoung's smile vanishes, his eyes turn into a darker shade of _green_ , and he moves closer to Seungcheol, slightly leading him to a more private corner, behind a pillar. "Actually, Coups, I asked you here not because you would force the accused into the room like that. But because I can't tell you this over the radio."

  
"Yes. . ."

  
"I have my suspicions that their relationship was what caused the fall of our economy, and despite of it being broken off, it will continue to destroy our lives. _Because_ , Jeonghan is a powerful demon, and he can control the entire population, _but_ his power doesn't reach the entirety because he's not _King_. Meaning, his power holds us all and thus the effects of their relationship will be received by us, as well."

  
"Okay."

  
"Lee Seokmin, based from what I gathered, is an overly kind one, too. Angels don't have much importance for ranks, though ranks do exist, so basically everyone is neutral there. Seokmin isn't responsible or authorizing anyone — so no one is receiving his consequences."

  
"Okay, noted."

  
"And moreover, I learned that their relationship had a slow pace. They were enemies — like what we actually are — but they loved each other in the end, though it took a _long time_ , so meaning, the consequences might take a long time for us as well." Soonyoung explains. "My primary suspicion is that we receive the consequences for a long time and the "showing" of it will happen the same way their romance and shit happened."

  
"So, what happened in their relationship, is parallel or mirroring to the consequences we will receive?"

  
"Yes. And I learned from monitoring that you found a fortune teller —" _seriously even Hoshi knows what a fortune teller is_ , "— we have to have him tell our future for us so we can avoid whatever it is and not make everyone worry. After all, once it concerns them, they care. And I don't want them to care — they show it in different ways and it's pure chaos."

  
Seungcheol asks, "what are you saying?"

  
"I'm saying, I think the violet-smoked demons are wrong and I need you to talk to that fortune teller again. It's a change of task."


	3. Pre:pare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol meets the annoying fortune teller for the second time and barely tries to make a negotiation.

Seungcheol doesn't have any interaction with Lee Seokmin, the accused angel, except for holding his other arm and pulling him inside the round and confined court room, the one with an open ceiling, reaching to the heavens and anywhere beyond.

  
Except for the other fact that when someone called Lee Seokmin, Seungcheol pulled his face up, and the other let out an "ouch," and it was one of the most beautiful things the guard had ever heard.

  
(He deemed his actions as inappropriate. The Angel was already being in a freaking trial, and all that was in his head was — _that's a beautiful sound_.)

  
And except for the other fact that he noticed the Angel's sword, so he took it forcefully. _Sildep_ , that felt horrible.

  
During the trial, Seungcheol tried to investigate and gather evidences on how their relationship was like. Based on the descriptions and evidences, it seemed light enough of a relationship, despite of its rough start.

  
There were scattering swords, burnings, manipulating conscience, and pretend monsters, but on the flip side, there were also purgatory dates, love letters, and rendezvouz. It was hard to believe Jeonghan was capable of maintaining that kind of relationship, too, and listening to some authority _read_ their _absolutely_ private love letters to each other was sickening. _Absolutely_ sickening. These authorities are insensitive and heartless!

  
So Seungcheol doubts if the consequences are bad. After the trial, it was decided that Seokmin should redeem himself as an Angel, and that is by helping someone in the human world. Or something like that.

  
When Seokmin looks at his way, Seungcheol offers a small smile. A small band-aid to this large mess. Soonyoung pretends he didn't notice and adjusts his beret.

  
The next day, Seungcheol informs Soonyoung during breakfast that he will be doing a quick research in the library.

  
A quick research on what the fuck are fortune tellers supposed to do. Look into the future? He hardly believed Joshua. It's impossible. He just went along with it.

  
"No need," is what Soonyoung tells him, "just ask him to predict. No need for studying."

  
"Okay, sir."

  
"Why? Are you doubting something?"

  
Even Chan, who is stressfully busy with studying the Thailand alphabet, looks up from where he is sitting. Seungcheol buffers. "...No, of course not."

  
And that's that. Chan reaches his top hat for him and Seungcheol goes off, playing with the post-it inside his pocket.

  
-

  
_I wish that I could turn back the clock_

_Bring the wheels of time to stop_

  
When Seungcheol arrives back at the carnival, at the violet booth, specifically, with the _FORTUNE TELLER_ sign and something underneath, he sees a blonde man — Joshua — in neon clothing, leaning forward to stare at some cards he couldn't identify. But he can spot some horns, a "clock," and a door. "Hey."

  
Joshua looks up from his desk. The song from the radio stops.

  
"Why did you stop the song?"

  
"Because you're here."

  
"...I think you predicted I'd come back, right?"

  
"No, but the center of the cards are showing me a demon," he slides the center card forward, "and I'm thinking that's you."

  
"Must be a coincidence, then."

  
Joshua narrows his eyes at him, smiling in amusement. "Do you still find it hard to believe my job?"

  
Seungcheol shrugs.

  
"No duh," the fortune teller answers himself. "Of course you still do. After all the leaves of a lucky clover have passed, the boat will sink in the flaming ocean."

  
"—What?"

  
"Nothing." Joshua swipes the cards away and lets them fall on his one hand. He notices that he pockets them in his neon green jacket. "Anyway, do you have any money today?"

  
Seungcheol's eyes widen. _Oh, right!_ This Juosha doesn't work unless there's a financial trigger. Geez. Are humans really money-hungered?

  
"I'm guessing you don't."

  
"Your guess is correct, Juushao."

  
"It's Joshua, but whatever. But you know the rules—no money, no contribution. I just let it slide during the first time, because I feel like you need it."

  
_Well. . ._

  
"Can you feel that I still need it now?" He asks shamelessly. "Look, I was instructed to bring you to the Underworld. By my boss. I have a change of task."

  
"Yeah? Who's your boss?"

  
Soonyoung should've oriented him about _this_ more. _Sildep_. He doesn't know if what he's doing is even fucking _legal_.

  
"Soonyoung."

  
Joshua's eyes twinkle. "Oh, that explains the clock in the cards. His eyes, right?"

  
"His eyes?" Seungcheol doesn't know what the hell is going on. _"Green?"_

  
"No, I mean — _never mind_. What seems to be the problem, then, and you need me?"

  
"The Underworld needs you, not me. First off. And two, Soonyoung has his suspicions — you know what, fuck this shit, I don't even know why _I_ have to explain it to you when it's not even my fucking idea."

  
"Just get straight to the damn point and stop wasting my time. You don't even have money to pay for my bills."

  
_"Okay."_ Seungcheol rolls his eyes. "So, an angel and a demon had a relationship, etcetera, etcetera, _and that's bad_ , because that would require erasing the population of _one_ of the involved. Their relationship, based from what I gathered in the trial, was soft and fluffy and totally not demonic. Enemies to lovers." He takes out the post-it from his pocket, "here. They had _scattering swords, burnings, manipulating conscience,_ and _pretend monsters_. In the enemies part. For the lovers' part, they had _love letters, purgatory dates_ , and _rendezvouz_."

  
"May I see?" Joshua takes the post-it, then frowns. He doesn't know what the fuck he is seeing. "The fuck, how can I read this?"

  
"They're drawings, asshat."

  
"No _duh_."

  
"...and my interpretations of the letters. But I don't know letters. So." Seungcheol waves a dismissive hand. "Okay, so, the demon is powerful, and this demon can authorize the entire population. So our leader is thinking that if ever there will be consequences, the entire," he spreads his arms wide, "population. And as for the angels, they'll be safe because the involved angel isn't really, like, responsible for anything."

  
"Okay," Joshua looks up at him, returning the post-it, "how can I help you? And what do I get in return?"

  
"You can help us by doing your fortune telling. However the fuck that works. _But_ ," Seungcheol points a finger. " _You have to keep it a secret between me and Soonyoung_. Only. Unless there's somebody in on the secret that both of us are related to."

  
Joshua nods attentively. _Surprisingly_ , Seungcheol thinks rudely.

  
"Okay. That's all. But I guess that would require. . . bringing you to the Underworld."

  
Joshua doesn't react. It slightly makes Seungcheol nervous.

  
"Um. . . We have a free room in our Demon Guard place. And I guess Soonyoung can arrange some stuff for you."

  
"Seungcheol, my friend," Joshua calls calmly, "I don't even know if a human like me can _breathe_ in Hell."

  
"O-oh."

  
Right. Right. Why didn't he realize that sooner? He should've thought about this whole thing. He should've asked about _this_ instead of wondering whatever "fortune tellers" are. Right. _Right_.

  
Damn it.

  
"No need to be nervous."

  
Seungcheol forces a stoic face.

  
"Not working, I can see through you," Joshua says, and Seungcheol deflates. "And you're ripping the post-it apart. We need that, remember?"

  
He looks down and realizes that Jaoshua's right. He stops.

  
"Anyway, when I arranged my cards here, they were in this order: the clock, the demon, and the door. I will tell you, in the simplest terms," Joshua leans forward and clasps his hands together. "When the time of _his_ eyes come, the demon _will_ guide me to travel through the door. And when the door closes, I will turn into a demon, until the time comes that I have to turn back, and come back here."

  
Seungcheol doesn't understand.

  
"See, they're in order: from left to right, then right to left."

  
"Okay..."

  
"It's only two in the afternoon," Joshua announces. "But we're not going to leave to your place until ten-ten in the evening. You're going to accompany me, then."

  
Seungcheol nods. "Is that the payment?"

  
"Not even close."


	4. Pre: ach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both wait until it’s time to go. Seungcheol is mostly annoyed.

There's a word for _this_.

  
What was that? Awkward? Yes. That's the one. It's already past two the afternoon, with the sunlight pointing directly at their spot in Earth, and at some point in the carnival, amidst the people, balloons, and vendors, are two creatures packing up. One of which, had (bleached) blonde hair and is wearing a neon get-up, and the second of which with a top hat and stripes.

  
"Hold on a sec," Joshua says, grunting as he folds the chairs and table. Seungcheol stands there awkwardly, holding the radio with both hands. "I'm thinking of a plan on how I will talk to my manager."

  
"Your who?"

  
"Manager." Then he looks away.

  
Seungcheol tries to repeat what he just said. "Man-jer. _Ma-nga-jeerie_." Wait. Wrong. " _Manger_."

  
He frowns. Why are the human words so difficult to pronounce?

  
"Yo, Ji!" The human calls to some other human, with a stick in his mouth, who is pumping balloons for his booth. Seungcheol notices small thingies with arrows. And a set of balloons behind him.

  
What is that? What was that for? The letters on the booth are foreign to him. But from all of the objects present, he deduces it must be some throw-the-sharp-thingies-to-pop-the-balloons kind of booth.

  
"Where's our manager?"

  
"Ji" stops pumping balloons and takes out the stick (Seungcheol later learns it's a cigarette.) "Sorry? Didn't hear ya."

  
"Our manager."

  
"Ji" stands up and walks towards them both. He takes a look at Seungcheol, then back to Joshua again.

  
"Gods, Shua, who's this guy?"

  
"Some childhood friend." _Is that a lie?_ Seungcheol feels safer that the economic rates might go up even for a little bit. Joshua stands up. "Listen. Is our manager here?"

  
"No, but I overheard he'll be coming next Saturday."

  
"Shit," Joshua mutters.

  
"Why? What's the matter?"

  
"I have to leave today. It's such a short notice thing, but. . . yeah. I have some stuff to do." Joshua looks up and mutters, audible to Seungcheol, _"I wish I follow my own predictions."_ Then back to the guy with a cigarette. "Do you think that's possible, Jihoon?"

  
_Jihoon_ , Seungcheol learns, nodding while mouthing the name. Jihoon looks at him weirdly and shields himself from the heat with his arm.

  
"Before we rule it out as possible, Shua, what makes you think it would be?"

  
"Well, for starters, not many people are interested in learning their future. And... I barely earn shit here."

  
"You're firing yourself?"

  
"It's called 'resigning,' Ji."

  
Jihoon shrugs. "Okay, but if you think your reasons are valid enough, I can give you their new number. Don't know why they had to change it. If they ask where you got it, tell them I found it. Those shitheads think that because I'm their employee they got full control on me. _Hell_ no."

  
Seungcheol tilts his head curiously.

  
"Got it. I'll tell them my hiatus will be indefinite."

  
Jihoon smiles. "Good luck, Shua."

  
After some time, Seungcheol found himself inside an _office_ — yes, he read that one, he was proud of himself — with Joshua, who is calmly staring at a wall with a black thing on his ear. And this black thing is connected to another black thing placed on another wall.

  
It's hard to explain. The demon guard isn't good with words, anyway.

  
"...I said, it's Joshua Hong. The fortune teller. Booth 34."

  
Silence.

  
"Yes, I'm calling to inform you about my indefinite absence—"

  
Silence.

  
"Oh—fire me?"

  
Seungcheol looks around the place. It was small, quite unclean, and filled with boxes. On the desk beside him resided stacks and stacks of papers. He can't read what it says.

  
"Well, I— I can't come back anytime I want... can I?"

  
There are also window shades here but they're barely useful.

  
"Yeah, first: it's not even that popular. Two, it's better if you don't replace me with a bogus. I barely get enough customers and they are regulars. If it's bogus — then you got yourself losing trust with your carnival's fortune telling rep, mind you."

  
Silence.

  
_"No duh."_

  
Silence again. Seungcheol stops listening after a while, and when he looks back at the blonde-haired boy, he sees a calm smile gracing on his lips, the black rectangle thing back to the black thing on the wall. "We're good to go, Demon."

  
"What was that? Your menjir?"

  
"It's _who_ was that, and it was my ma-na-ger. You got that second one correct." Joshua takes his things, as well as the folding chairs. Seungcheol grabs the folding table — IT'S HEAVY — and the radio before the other could.

  
"Slow down, Demon."

  
"Where are we going?"

  
"To my apartment."

  
Joshua steps out of the office first, and Seungcheol follows with effort. The heat focuses on them, but the latter had been living in Hell, so it doesn't matter. He dodges the humans going past them.

  
"Jou-shak! Do you have a library here?"

  
The blonde man seems surprised. "There's one around, but it's kind of far if we walk. Why do you ask?"

  
"I want to learn on how to make you breathe."

  
Joshua stops in his tracks. He looks around, then whispers, "what? I thought I predicted how that would go already."

  
"And you think you're right?"

  
"Considering I never go wrong, yes. Why? You're concerned about that?"

  
"Because I care about the population, not about you. I don't need your death."

  
"No duh," Joshua says, turning around. He starts walking. "I think that's evident enough already. But I also think you're stupid for assuming we would have that kind of book here in the human world. Our only references about you guys, are you guys exactly. And a couple witnesses."

  
"Really?"

  
"There are fictional books about you, but they're from the figments of people's imagination. So they're inaccurate and totally false."

  
"How do you know their imaginations aren't true?"

  
"They just. . . aren't. It's all in their head."

  
It is getting hot and sweat beads are almost forming at the back of Joshua's head, the demon notices as he follows.

  
"You know, Jushoa, you're not the superior creatures here. So I suggest you stop being an arrogant fork."

  
Joshua looks at him, with an mildly annoyed expression in his face. "I'm quitting my job—my source of lifeline—for _you_ and your _stupid_ population, _without sure pay_ , so you better suck it up and be grateful, Seungcheol. You can all die there for all I care, but where the fuck am I? _Here_. Sweating and sucking up my nervousness to talk to _my_ manager _just_ to _help_ your stupid creatures and satisfy your stupid suspicions with your leader. So I suggest _you_ stop being an ungrateful little fork."

  
That catches Seungcheol off guard, but he composes himself with a glare.

  
He's used to eight-foot and above tall demons yelling at him, and scolding him for his mistakes. This Jousha guy is almost nothing compared to them. . .

  
"Sorry. But I'm a demon and being an ungrateful little fork is in my nature."

  
Joshua is intimidatingly calm. "Saying sorry? Such an angelic move for a devil like you."

  
"Stop that!" Seungcheol stomps his foot, momentarily forgetting he was holding a heavy weight. He cringes and composes himself.

  
"Um. . . guys?"

  
Joshua whips his head to see Jihoon, throwing his cigarette on the trash can. "I heard everything."

  
"What's that?" Seungcheol asks, tilting his head to the cigarette.

  
"It's a cigarette." Jihoon raises an eyebrow. _"Demon."_

  
Seungcheol glares in surprise.

  
"Look, you said it first, about how it's in your nature to be a total asshole," Jihoon tells him, "but don't worry. I counted my sins and they're enough for me to reside in where you live."

  
"Too bad we have an economic crisis in Hell."

  
"Even here, anyway. Ya ain't special." He turns to Joshua. "So, Shua, when will you be back?"

  
"I haven't predicted that one yet. But I'll come back as soon as possible. You'll see me alive."

  
"Okay," Jihoon says, looking back at the balloons. "I'm going to make sure I'll see you alive."

  
-

  
"Where are we, Shuaoj?" Seungcheol asks, as the both of them are standing in front of some building. Both sweaty. Both tired. Both quiet after the argument from earlier.

  
There is that word again for this: _awkward_. And Seungcheol's way of erasing the awkwardness is pretending to be either curious, interested, or stupid.

  
In other words, by asking questions.

  
"This is called an apartment, a place wherein people can separately live together. Like an oxymoron: separately together," he patiently explains as he opens the door. Then he grabs the things and goes inside. The black-haired demon follows.

  
"I'm so tired," he complains when the door is closed.

  
"Who cares? Let's go."

  
"No." He crouches down.

  
"Get up."

  
"No."

  
"Seungcheol, get up." Joshua goes to the stairs. "I'm on the fourth floor."

  
Seungcheol lowers the folding table and the radio even further on the ground. He takes off his top hat to wipe his sweat, showing off his horns, when —

  
"WHAT ARE YOU?!" An old lady cries out. "A DEMON IN THE HOUSE!"

  
_Stupid!!!!!!!!_

  
"DEMON! THERE'S A DEMON!" She screams. Both of them hear worried footsteps. "A DEMON IN THE HOUSE!"

  
Seungcheol, although sweaty, scrambles for his top hat and puts it on. He hears a _clank!_ and he sees Joshua sprinkle some purple dust right to the old lady's face.

  
"What if her nostrils had dust inside, you insensitive teller?" Seungcheol whispers, gathering his things.

  
Some door bursted open and Joshua splashes them with purple dust before hurrying up the stairs. Seungcheol follows quickly.

  
And in the little space between the staircases, he spots purple dust raining downwards. He can only imagine what they see: a guy with bleached-blonde hair, in a neon green jacket, carrying a bag and folding chairs, while there's a black-haired guy in a top hat and stripes, carrying a folding table on one arm and a radio in the other.

  
_Sildep._

  
When they arrived at the fourth floor, Joshua hurriedly drops his things and opens his door with a key. Seungcheol follows inside, panting, with the stupidly large folding table and radio. He observes that Joshua took off his shoes and placed it near the door, so he does the same.

  
_Common courtesy to blend in!_

  
"So this is my apartment."

  
"Looks kind of the same with our Demon Guard house..."

  
"Then there's no need for a tour. I'm gonna go take a shower."

  
"A what?" Seungcheol asks, getting alarmed because of the unknown. " _Shower?_ What is that?"

  
Is that like a ritual?

  
"Cleaning your own body, that's what it is."

  
"Oh, with what?"

  
"Water. They look the same with the tears of your enemies. I know you demons call it a 'bath' then you splash yourself with your enemies' tears. Don't know where you collect those," Joshua replies, taking the radio from the floor and placing it on a table beside a door. He does something with it. "Don't be a demon, you're in my place. Don't steal, don't look, don't lie, and don't touch anything. Or I won't help you."

  
"I won't do that," Seungcheol says coldly, taking off his top hat. His horns are free! "I'm not even interested."

  
"Totally. I'm gonna play music and you're not gonna pause it."

  
"I won't do that either," Seungcheol scoffs. "I don't know how to."

  
Joshua disappears behind the door, the one next to the radio, and bringing the fortune teller's words to mind, Seungcheol doesn't do anything.

  
He simply stood there and listened to the music. This must be the _Johnny Hates Jazz_ again.

  
Next to the radio, is a cigarette box, he notices, because of the sticks, _just like what Jihoon was seen with earlier._

  
Then next to it, is a small red book. For what it was for, he didn't know. _Of course_ he _wouldn't_. 

  
It's hard being illiterate. He can't look at one thing and understand what it is in less than a second. He always needs to dig in to the deepest of his memories and experiences, just to make a — what was it — deduction? Induction? — or a general picture on what it could be.

  
When Joshua is done, he steps out, wearing a different get-up: some striped shirt and some oversized jeans. Then there's the neon green jacket again. His bleached blonde hair is dripping wet.

  
He finally notices Seungcheol, standing stiffly on one corner, while _sweating_. One of his hands are holding the top hat.

  
"Yikes, man, I totally didn't mean it in that way... You can go sit down."

  
Oh. Seungcheol walks towards the couch and sits down.

  
"You can place your top hat there, too."

  
Seungcheol places his top hat beside him.

  
Joshua rushes towards another room.

  
Then there's only the radio playing.

-

**Summer of 1998, two hours later**

  
"Jushao," Seungcheol calls from the couch. "I'm not comfortable."

  
Joshua steps outside. "I offered you food and you refused. You gotta live with your choices, man."

  
"No, I mean — I want a bath. And can you stop switching the rectangle thingies for the radio? We could've just played the first one on repeat."

  
Joshua sighs.

  
"I can't cry for you. And if I did, my tears won't be enough for you to take a bath."

  
"Why? Are you my enemy?"

  
"Am I not?"

  
"We're _allies_ here, in case you've forgotten." Seungcheol glares. "And your ally, Jaoshu, is both _bored_ and _uncomfortable_."

  
"And your ally, Seungcheol, is both _busy_ and totally _occupied_. Here," he gets a random towel and throws it, "that towel is clean. You can just do laundry while you're bathing, I guess. Did they teach you to do that?"

  
_Teach._

  
Did they?

  
"No." They have demon sinners to do that. But Joshua proceeds to give him instructions on how to do laundry.

  
"Why are you telling me this? Can't you just give me your clothes?"

  
"I'm supposed to go to the Underworld, remember? I'm not supposed to be nice."

  
"What? I thought that was for later. How do you even turn yourself into a demon, anyway? What did you really predict?"

  
"You'll see, Seungcheol."

  
When Joshua disappears back to some room, Seungcheol feels another round of annoyance. He was reminded that he lacked education.

  
He was reminded he didn't have the privilege. And Joshua was making him feel like it was his fault.

  
Before Seungcheol takes off his clothing, he takes the post-it out, first, making sure it remains safe inside the shelf with the mirror on the outside (he sees himself and he rolls his eyes). Whatever it's called. Whatever they're called.

  
-

  
It is already dark in the human world.

  
But it is bright here, in wherever they are. Joshua told him this was called a 'grocery store,' and Seungcheol was reminded of the same one in their world. Except, it's not called as a grocery store.

  
"Why are we here?"

  
"To fool." Joshua heads towards the — _why do the humans have these?!_

  
The fortune teller grabs a horns-headband. Then he pays for it. Seungcheol feels off when the cashier is polite.

  
"Thank you for shopping with us!"

  
_Thank you_ , Seungcheol mouths in repetition. It feels so strange with it rolling off his tongue. But it oddly feels so familiar, too. They say it all the time in the Underworld, but it held no meaning, only sarcasm.

  
See, it's like an inside joke in the Underworld. That explains why the green-eyed demon from the somethingsomething CAFE thanked him like that.

  
"People say that for gratitude," Joshua explains when they are outside, "when someone did something for them."

  
"Something like what?" He tested. Maybe it's different here.

  
"Like a favor."

  
"Like a payment?"

  
"It's said like it's a payment that doesn't need to be reciprocated."

  
_Payment that doesn't need to be reciprocated_ , he repeats in his head, but he doesn't understand it, so he tries to come up with an example. . .

  
"If I pushed a large rock for you, and you say thank you, isn't that unfair for me?"

  
"Sometimes a thank you is all you want to hear, so it's not unfair."

  
"Why would I want to hear it?"

  
"For gratitude."

  
"What does gratitude do?"

  
"If a gratitude is genuine, it makes someone feel accomplished," Joshua says as they both walk. "It's because it makes someone feel useful. Like they're existing for a reason. Like they're meant to be here."

  
Seungcheol snorts. "This isn't some romance novel for you to talk like that."

  
"Listen, bitchface, I'm a fortune teller." He points at himself. "I studied linguistics, vocabulary, and even tried out writing poems so I can deliver my predictions vaguely. Try to understand my side."

  
"Listen too, asshat, I'm a Demon Guard," Seungcheol says, half-mocking, "I grew up without proper education, I can only read a few words, I can't pronounce your stupid vocabulary, but I'm asking so much and I'm trying my best because it's my duty. Try to understand my side."

  
Joshua looks at him and smiles. "I already do. But in order for me to help you, I have to be rude."

  
Seungcheol gives up. If it's for the betterment of everyone, he's willing to endure it.

  
After all, these rudeness isn't new to him, anyway.


	5. Pre: dict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ TW: VIOLENCE. Please read with caution! ]  
> Seungcheol is questioning why and how they would travel to the Underworld, especially since one of them is a human.

This is BORING.

  
Seungcheol glares at the "clock" that had lines that pointed closely to the numbers 9 (for the shorter one) and 10 (for the longer one). The blonde told him it was almost nine o'clock PM. Seungcheol only knew the existence of clocks through tasks or missions, hence not being too knowledgeable about it.

  
But other than that, he was (and _is_ ) BORED.

  
"Do we really have to go there at ten-ten?"

  
"Yes."

  
"What difference does it make?"

  
"If we went there at the wrong time, then we might see ourselves in a problematic situation." Joshua dries the plate and utensils he had just washed. "You said this was a secret, right?"

  
He nods. "But we're probably going to arrive in my room in the house, anyway, I don't see any harm in that."

  
"You're, like, _really_ confident that there will be no unwanted authorities inside your room."

  
"Like they're interested?"

  
"You're talking as if they aren't."

  
"And are they?" Seungcheol challenges. "Look," he taps the table, "I really wanna leave already."

  
Joshua ignores him and turns around to face the sink. "This is what I predicted, and I would like to follow through my own predictions — for once — so I won't put myself in another unfortunate situation." He places the plate and utensils back in where it belonged in the kitchen. "The last time I didn't follow through my prediction I found myself associated with this nonsense—"

  
_"—this isn't nonsense!—"_

  
"—when I should be peacefully predicting and making money in my booth."

  
Seungcheol rests his chin on the table. "Fine."

  
"I feel like a parent." Joshua massages his temple. "Be a good demon while I go finish making up a believable reason about my absence. The thing is, only Jihoon knows now, which is a good thing — _don't rest your head on the table, you have horns_ — and I'm making fake diary entries and stuff just in case someone sees." He curses under his breath. "I haven't even packed my clothes and stuff that much."

  
"Clothes? For what?"

  
Joshua looks at him. "Why? Do you exist there naked?"

  
_"No,"_ Seungcheol replies annoyedly, "I'm just asking since I was assuming you're going to borrow clothes from us to pretend that you're also a demon guard. And _yes_ , we wear clothes, that's why there's a thing such as 'fashion police' listed in our _Sildep's Book of the Biggest Pain in the_ toot."

  
"In the _what_."

  
"In the _toot_." Seungcheol rolls his eyes. "Learn to listen, bird-brain."

  
Joshua's expression doesn't show any signs of hurt. If anything, he seems very unaffected and simply happy.

  
_Why?_

  
And more importantly, _how?_

  
"I heard you, you arrogant doghouse. You can just simply say the word _arse_ or _ass_."

  
" _You_ told me to be a _good_ demon," Seungcheol argues, "I'm being one right now."

  
"Yeah, right. The only thing you are being right now is being _difficult_." Joshua leaves him alone, closing his bedroom door as he enters inside, leaving Seungcheol's thoughts alone to himself.

  
This is still boring, though.

  
Seungcheol looks around the room, and his eyes land on the cigarette box on the table beside the bathroom door.

  
-

  
The thing about being alone with your thoughts is that you can dig up a problem that's buried at the back of your mind.

  
And that brings Seungcheol in front of Joshua's bedroom door, knocking quietly. He had this thought in his head ever since earlier this afternoon, about how a human can get inside and _breathe_ in the Underworld.

  
No answer. He knocks again.

  
"Hey, I have a concern."

  
He hears muffled footsteps before the door finally opens. Then there's Joshua. "Concern? About?"

  
"About how we will get in with you as a human."

  
"I told you," Joshua says, "I'd need you to be with me or else I have no access. Just accompany me at 10:10 and we're fine."

  
"Fine? Just like that?"

  
" _No duh_. Don't overthink too much, Seungcheol."

  
"Shouldn't we talk about the details for this? Like your eyes, for example? They're black."

  
"No human eye is black," he corrects, "mine's just dark brown."

  
"Whatever. Back to my point! We need to talk about the smaller stuff."

  
Joshua raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

  
"Look," Seungcheol makes a show of sighing tiredly, "I care a lot about my people and I don't want our potential help to _die_ just because of shit."

  
"Don't worry, alright? As long as you accompany me — or cooperate with me, if you may — we're fine."

  
"Do you even know how to get there?"

  
"No, but I'm pretty sure I don't need to know about it because it's not the same way for us humans."

  
"Okay, then — _how?_ "

  
Joshua looks up and mumbles, _"I hate predicting my own conversations sometimes."_ He then leans on the doorframe, and crossed his arms. "You really don't trust me, do you?"

  
"You ungrateful pair of wet socks, I'm being concerned about your well-being." Seungcheol points at him threateningly. "Play nice. You don't like me when I'm angry."

  
"You won't like _me_ when _I'm_ angry," Joshua replies playfully, then pretends to look up in childlike wonder, "oh, wait. I never get angry."

  
Seungcheol slaps a hand on his face. "May Sildep let me live on Earth."

  
"I'm guessing this a way of telling me you still don't agree or believe my prediction?"

  
Seungcheol doesn't answer.

  
"That's actually the same line that's been in my head ever since we got home from the grocery store." Joshua supplies the unnecessary 'facts' sometimes, Seungcheol thinks. "That's why it sounds scripted."

  
He snorts in reply.

  
Joshua swipes something from his left — that Seungcheol can't see, he's outside — and goes outside to the living room. "You're lucky the only thing I'm left to do is to zip my bag." He places them, the cards, face-down on the table. The demon follows suit.

  
"Pick three cards, but don't look at the symbols behind them. And arrange them based on what you _feel_ is right," Joshua instructs, sitting down on the floor. Seungcheol sits down across from him, picking three random cards then arranges them.

  
"There you go, demon."

  
However this works is extremely hard to comprehend to Seungcheol. He boredly plays with one of his horns. "Okay."

  
Joshua looks at him in the eye. " _Remember_ , it was _you_ who chose this, not me. Whatever you predict, will be our future — and it can also be _false_ — if you decide not to follow it. Understood?"

  
"That must be your excuse when none of what you predicted happens, right?"

  
"Stop being negative and cooperate. Anyway, you want the cards facing you or facing me?"

  
"See? You have this all under control," Seungcheol accuses, "you can control the symbols in the cards. Secretly or something. This whole fortune telling things is bogus."

  
"Facing you or facing me, Seungcheol?"

  
"Facing me," he challenges.

  
Joshua flips the cards over, and this is what Seungcheol sees: a body in a pool of blood, a crowd, and a dodgeball.

  
"When I asked you if it was facing you or facing me, I was asking which order of the cards that you felt you liked," Joshua explains. "Since you said facing you, the cards can be read starting from _your_ left."

  
"Starting from the. . . dead body?"

  
"Yes."

  
Seungcheol blinks.

  
When he looks up at Joshua, the fortune teller has a patient smile on his face.

  
"This is odd, we don't have to resort to this, actually."

  
"You don't? Awesome."

  
"—What? What's that mean?"

  
Joshua doesn't answer. Instead, he looks at something behind Seungcheol, a clock, and exclaims, "Oh! It's already ten... ten-eight. I'm going to go get my stuff."

  
"Okay. . . I guess."

  
Seungcheol waits awkwardly on the floor and stares at the cards.

  
_What does a dodgeball have to do with anything?_

  
Does this mean that a crowd will form outside because of a dead body, and they can use that chance to sneak in since their attention is diverted. . . but then, dodgeball? Really?

  
This is crazy. This is absolutely crazy and stupid. This is also ridiculous.

  
But it definitely isn't boring anymore. . .

  
Joshua comes back, in his striped shirt, oversized jeans, neon green jacket, and his little messenger bag. He has the horns-headband hanging on its strap and resting on the bag itself.

  
It's hard to explain. But the curve of the headband is around the strap and its weight is supported by the bag itself.

  
Seungcheol hates being observant about the most useless things sometimes. Whatever. He frowns.

  
"Oh, are you scared?" Joshua asks. He switches off the lights and arranges a few things at the last minute. "Go get your top hat, we're going to go."

  
"Yeah, but, um, how—"

  
Joshua swipes the cards off the table and places them in his inside pocket. He runs a hand through his hair and goes to the kitchen. Seungcheol does retrieve his top hat.

  
"Joa-sho?"

  
"Yes?"

  
"I think we have to leave. We usually fade to get in, by the way."

  
Joshua returns to the living room with a smile, one of his hands hiding something behind his back. It was purple dust. A _whole_ load of it.

  
"—What's that behind your—"

  
Without a warning, he throws them all on Seungcheol's face, watching a big purple mess spread around, leaving the demon coughing and gasping for air.

  
When the minute hand reached _ten_ on the dot, Joshua grins, full teeth showing, and hits the demon's head repeatedly on the wall, on the table, and on the floor, ignoring his cries. He murders the demon who was just standing in front of him in confusion. . .

  
Until it was lying down unconsciously in a pool of blood on the floor.

  
By 10:10 PM exactly, the first card's prediction is accomplished, and if one takes a look at one of the apartments in the fourth floor, one can see a dead body on the floor and a grinning fortune teller who is looking down at it in happiness.

  
And possibly, if one doesn't run away at that moment, one can see that the grinning fortune teller killed himself, too.


	6. Pre:judice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirty days after, something different happens in the Underworld.

Day 1.

Day 2. Soonyoung suggests trying torture methods to wake the black-haired demon up. Chan wants to hit the military leader with his Thailand alphabet guide.

  
"That's a stupid idea, Hoshi."

  
"You didn't have to hit me, though."

Day 3. They actually try out torture methods.

Day 6. The torture methods were too much. Chan cringes at the amount of blood produced, so he leaves the Demon Guard cabin.

He comes back and tells Soonyoung he met a bleached-blonde human in the Headache Library. He says something about popularity, a post-it, and purple dust.

Day 11. Soonyoung hears about the bleached-blonde guy himself, and realizes something.

Day 18.

Day 19. The bleached-blonde human gains recognition from Sildep, and Chan scoffs upon knowing that.

Day 20. Chan keeps the baseball bats away. He keeps the hammer away. He keeps the nails away. He keeps all the unsuccessful torture tools away.

Day 25. No signs of progress.

Day 27. The bleeding stops.

Day 29. Chan sighs upon seeing the body on the couch, with dried blood and a permanent exhausted expression on the face.

Day 30.

  
_"Coups, you failed your task."_

  
Seungcheol slowly opens his eyes, and he finds himself facing the ceiling of... Joshua's apartment. He looks to his right and sees the clock, and after a few seconds of comprehension, he realizes it's eleven-oh-five.

  
Most likely fifty-five minutes _after_ their official time for departure. _Shit_. Why was he still here? He looks around, but unfortunately, there was no sign of Joshua _anywhere_.

  
Wait, what the hell? What the fuck? He never left?

  
And where the fuck is Joouskah?

  
_"More than half of the population is dying. . ."_

  
"J-" he tries to speak. "J...Joushak?"

  
No response.

  
_"Love letters are shared by more demons, increasing the torture rate by seventeen percent. . ."_

  
It had been decades since Seungcheol had gotten himself "injured" like this. If he's even alive. Oh, no. Maybe he isn't? Damn it.

  
_"Coups."_

  
Is that Soonyoung? "W-what..."

  
_"Stand up."_

  
Before Seungcheol can ask why, the surroundings change and now he's lying down inside a grave. A freaking grave. There is no coffin, only him, lying down, in the dirt. Joshua's ceiling slowly shifts to a shade of familiar red — the red clouds and the red skies of the Underworld — and he sees droplets of rain slowly come down and aim towards him.

  
One, two, three... he can't count how many rain droplets are falling against him. He lets himself get rained on with his eyes closed, hoping not to get anything in his eyes, because, of course, that would hurt. He can't even move out of too much exhaustion.

  
"Well, well, look who's here." He hears someone _else_ from _above_ say. He opens his eyes, and the droplets fall to his eyes — _Sildep_. — and he sees the blonde fortune teller standing with a shovel. "It's Seungcheol."

  
"Is that you? Koush—"

  
"No duh," Joshua answers. When he crouches down to look at the other more closely, the latter finds out he is wearing his horns-headband. "Of course it's you. I thought you were dead for a while back there."

  
"Yikes, hyung. He's even worse than a demon sinner," Chan says, stepping in and looking down at him. "How can he let himself die just to let a human _in_?"

  
"I haven't been in the Underworld for more than a few seconds, but it seems like I'm way more qualified to be a red-smoked demon rather than this one." Joshua gestures towards Seungcheol.

  
"You're right, hyung."

  
_Wait. Why the hell is Chan calling Joushak 'hyung'?_

  
"COUPS," Soonyoung repeats. "STAND UP!"

  
And then Seungcheol stands up.

  
He realizes he's in the cabin. The Demon Guard house. He sees the same couch, the same radio, the same table, the same wooden walls, and the same organized space. He sees Soonyoung, and his beret that is placed on top of his head in between his horns, and he sees a questioning expression on his face.

  
"What happened, Hoshi?" He asks rather weakly.

  
"I was kind of about to ask you that."

  
"Ask me what happened, you mean?" The room is spinning, like a top. A spinning top. "I- I don't know." The image of where he is right now slowly fades to the image of Joshua before he died. A grin, strong hands, and nothing but the cold. "Where's Chan, Hosh?"

  
"Dino's outside. . . Er," Soonyoung shifts awkwardly from one foot to another, "can you please fill me in on what happened? Because—"

  
"Because, what?"

  
"You were asleep for thirty days." Soonyoung sidesteps to gesture to the calendar, "or 720 hours. And not only that, but, you remember the fortune teller I told you to go get for us?"

  
"Jousah?"

  
"Yep." Soonyoung nods uneasily. "He's a violet-smoked demon now—"

  
_"What?!"_

  
Did _he_ betray _Seungcheol_?

  
What the fuck.

  
Seungcheol's hands form into a fist. _That's totally, extremely, super, very, really messed up. What a fucking asshole. Fucker._ He knew he was bogus. He knew it. He _knew_ it. A hot, fiery, feeling bursts from his chest, spreading all throughout his body, his veins, his bones, his ligaments, his joints — and every fucking part of his body that made him almost shake in anger.

  
Fuck.

  
"Yeah, um. . ." Soonyoung looks down. "I'm sorry for this mess, maybe I was wrong about the suspicions. Partly, I guess. Nothing's happening yet, and you were knocked out for 720 hours and we thought you were gone for good and that you should be sacrificed, _but_ the fortune te—"

  
_Suspicions. Nothing's happening yet_. Seungcheol overlooks the last part of Soonyoung's dialogue. "No, no— you're not. Not wrong, I mean. You said it was a slow burn, right?"

  
"I did. But listen—"

  
"Let's kill him," Seungcheol says, feeling his horns produce fire. "I want to kill him, like he killed me. I want to torture him. I want him to die. I want him to experience the shittiest part of Hell. I want him to _pay_."

  
Soonyoung has no reaction, but he only twists his fingers in strange ways. Nobody knew where he learned that from but Seungcheol doesn't give a burning fuck because —

  
"You should be as determined as I am, Hoshi. You're the military leader, for fuck's sake. Do you know what I heard when I was knocked out? I heard that torture rates are up by seventeen percent because of love letters, I heard that half of the population is dying. I heard _those_ , and I think it's because of _him_."

  
The other sighs in reply.

  
"What now? I'm _this_ —" he puts his index finger and thumb at a close distance, "—close to calling you incompetent."

  
"Coups, listen to me first. I don't want you to cut me off," Soonyoung holds him by the shoulders, giving it a small shake. "You keep on cutting me off."

  
"Fine!"

  
"Thirty days, or seven-hundred and twenty hours ago, you teleported here, in this cabin, out of nowhere. You were bloody, but you were breathing. Dino and I tried waking you up, but it was no use. We even tried different torture methods, but it only made you bleed more," Soonyoung explains. "Then one day, when Dino was out, he found Joushaj in the streets because the demons were _crowded_ around him."

  
_Crowded around him_ , Seungcheol notes, finding it familiar. "Then?"

  
"It turns out, it was because Jahsuao speaks so. . . strangely. His words were vague and like. . . fucking magic. Like a Chwe Hansol, but with a fakeass horns headband and a larger vocabulary and the ability to predict. Everyone _always_ goes home to solve those riddles, then the next day, or a few hours later, those riddles have a resemblance to the reality. He really can predict the future, mind you —"

  
"But he _used_ me—"

  
_"Shut the hell up for a second!"_ Soonyoung digs his fingernails in Seungcheol's shoulders, and the other couldn't help but flinch. "Anyway, back to my story, his difference in thinking impressed everyone, _even_ Sildep, which is why he gained the violet-smoked position, despite of the fact he isn't a demon."

  
"That's so _unfair_." Seungcheol's voice cracks. He had been living in this dungeon, in this discriminating Hell hole for so damn long, protecting and checking bags, and he's just _doing his damn job_ willingly and _yet_ he's still at the bottom of the rank, along with Chan and the other demon guards. They can _never_ amount to anything, then here Josekjehe is — _thirty days in and he's already a_ fucking _genius of some shit_. "So unfair. . ."

  
" _But_ , that's not all." Soonyoung drops his hands to his sides. "We kind of have another concern."

  
Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. "That we chose the wrong help for us because now our supposed-to-be help is being a bitchass teacup?"

  
"No. Okay, listen. During the first time Dino saw him, Jbsjdjoshah accidentally asked the demons about where you are, and everyone became confused," he explains slowly. "And when he realized his mistake, he sprinkled purple dust — and luckily, only Dino was the one who _dodged_ the dust."

  
_Dodged_ , that word rings a bell.

  
"And after the dust sprinkling, everyone returned back to normal, like he never asked about your whereabouts, but Dino told me Jdous _noticed_ him dodging, and seemed even happy at that. Then we had no contact from him, at all, except when we pass by him outside. He looks at me _always_ , though, but he never has the chance to talk to me, because he's always surrounded by the other demons; and probably because I'm always preoccupied in a conversation with Dino. But the point, Coups, is that," Soonyoung raises a purple post-it, " _why_ did Dino _found_ a drawing of you in this post-it with a cloud bubble above your head, and _why_ is there a plus sign in between it and a drawing of another post-it with _your_ writing? Dino found this after he woke up, tucked in his Thailand alphabet guide, when he was — according to him — 'taking a break' from studying in Headache Library, the place where he first met Jasouha."

  
Seungcheol swallows a lump in his throat. Joshua's drawing is disgustingly accurate and awfully. . . nice. Horns and eyes and nose and ears and mouth and all.

  
_Ew_.

  
"Drawing," he corrects, "I can't write. I draw." He fishes out something from his pocket, and he retrieves the nearly crumpled post-it that he used to list down about Seokmin and Jeonghan's relationship progress.

  
The same one Joshua couldn't read.

  
"Fine, drawing."

  
"Hoshi, that post-it next to that drawing of me is this one." He raised the almost crumpled up post-it, "and it was the one I showed him."

  
Soonyoung flips the purple post-it over. "There are some words or numbers here, but I can't read them."

  
"The fuck? What the fuck is that? I told him I can't read."

  
"Dino recognized this as the English alphabet. Too bad he's studying another one." He raises an eyebrow, pouting, as he puts the purple post-it down to stare at the words. "I walked up to Joshshb by threatening everyone I'm the military leader just this morning to ask him about this, and he told me, but he sprinkled purple dust again and I was lucky I dodged half of them."

  
"So you forgot?"

  
"Most of what he said. Like I said, I dodged. But I was asking you to fill me up because I remember him saying _time_ and _unwanted taste_. . ."

  
Seungcheol narrows his eyes.

  
"Yeah, I know, right. I didn't understand. So now, Dino is outside and is going to the Headache Lib, hopefully Mr Genius isn't there, to look for an English-Thai dictionary guide."

  
"This is shitty," Seungcheol says, pocketing the post-it again. Soonyoung does the same but he keeps the purple post-it in his beret. "Can we go get something to eat?"

  
"Of course."


	7. Pre:judice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's only the first part of the consequence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: VIOLENCE. Read with caution if you need to!

_Let's head to the Capital,_ Soonyoung had said. _The supplies are mostly there recently. You can't live on the cafe drinks anymore, Coups. Less humans pee on public places_.

  
There are around fourteen Capitals in the Underworld. Each of the Capitals are considered as the _heart_ of a specific portion of the place, differentiated by the nature of the demons. No, this does not necessarily pertain to their smoke, but to the nature of which they sin.

  
And that explains why there are only three people in the Demon Guard Cabin of Capital Ten — the Land of Apathy. Seungcheol grew up in that kind of environment, hence having a limited knowledge on devil psychology. Soonyoung, on the other hand, had traveled more, so as they both made their way, he sprouted random facts and explanations for places Seungcheol hasn't been in before.

  
"There are Sevens here," Soonyoung comments when they reach the train. "I don't want to get harrassed. Let's just walk, it's wiser if we don't let our smoke appear."

  
_He knows why: there's a fifty-fifty chance you are thought of as a demon guard, and another to be thought of as a sinner._

  
The journey to the Capital Ten had been informative. Upon arriving to the Capital itself — the center — however, made Seungcheol think about the extent of Apathy that their Land obtained.

  
There is a beating, a whipping, that's happening, and it's blocking out the entrance on where they both can get their supplies to last them enough for days.

  
For most humans, according to Soonyoung's traveling experience knowledge, seeing violence can usually lead to them losing their appetite. Seungcheol looks away from the whipping of a demon sinner that is happening in the middle of the road, while everyone else watches in glee.

  
One whip.

  
Two whips.

  
Three whips. The demon sinner cries out in pain, watching her own blood scatter the streets.

  
And this has been going on for who knows how long. Seungcheol hears the demon sinner — who is a _female_ , quite unfortunately — cough out even more blood. "S-stop."

  
"In an economic crisis," a male demon said, voice low, "we need _sacrifices_ for the sake of allocating more for the people. If you're so _nice_ , why don't you do this for us?" He grins sweetly, sickly, and whips the demon sinner's body.

  
Then the cheers of men that dominated the entire place. The entire Capital. Four whips. Five whips. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten whips, all done in succeeding order.

  
_Living in this side of the Underworld never offered empathy_ , Seungcheol thinks. Soonyoung watches blankly from beside him. The both of them knew they couldn't do anything about it.

  
Twelve whips.

  
Fifteen.

  
Eighteen whips. Seungcheol bites his tongue, watching the demon sinner lie down on the floor, body bruised and bloody.

  
Twenty whips.

  
Seungcheol bites his tongue harder. _He could've been in that place if he kept on being nice._

  
Twenty-seven. He bites harder, until he feels the taste of his own blood in his mouth.

  
It tasted _cold_. But he didn't want it. It was as cold as the hearts of these demons around him. _You're not supposed to feel this way,_ he scolds himself. He bites on his tongue harder, feeling the _unwanted taste_ of his blood again and again.

  
Then he swallows it — his own blood. _Gross_. Thirty-two whips. Then a cry. _I'm sorry_.

  
"Let's go get our supply," Seungcheol whispers with the feeling of unease, though his demeanor betrayed no emotion.

  
But before Soonyoung can reply, a thunder roars amongst the red clouds, the red sky, and strikes of violet appear in a flash.

  
Sildep's familiar face: holes for eyes, tear-streaks from his eyes, and with a mouth stretched in the widest grin — forms from the clouds and violet strikes that hover over the Capital. _It's like seeing a red ocean from above; deep-looking, plain, mysterious_. The face disappears and the sky turns into a different shade of dark blue water, like an upside down ocean.

  
The winds begin blowing strongly, too, affecting the half-breds, the demon guards, and the demon sinners, above all.

  
_It's Sildep. Sildep's coming._

  
The demon with the whip stops, and the cries of the sinner silenced. Everyone suddenly turns into nervous wrecks.

  
Soonyoung gives Seungcheol a knowing look.

  
**_Only one sacrifice?_ **

  
Everyone subtly exchanged glances with one another.

  
_**The lowest in the ranks shall be offered first.** _

  
Seungcheol's hands feel cold.

  
_**Brown-smoked.** _

  
Soonyoung freezes on the spot. Lovely, green-eyed Soonyoung who always looks out for him.

  
_**And this time, you must try a different method.** _

  
When you're brown-eyed, you're the weakest links. The demon sinners. The demon guards, sometimes. When you're brown-eyed, you're the front line for sacrifices.

  
"W-what method?" Soonyoung asks. It's part of his job description. "What method, F-Father?"

  
**_Bury them alive and stab them with the first sword you see._ **

**_  
Or in this case,_ **

**_  
Bury him alive. And when he's on the ground, stab_ him _, with the first sword that you see._**

  
But when you're the only brown-eyed devil in the Capital, you're the only one everyone's laying their eyes on.


	8. Pre:dator

"And that's how you get to Capital Ten," Jeonghan says, folding the map. "Beware of the Fives when you get to the train, they can get greedy with the seats."

  
"Thanks, Jeonghan. I'll be back soon, if I don't get killed in the crowd."

  
"What crowd?"

  
"The fruit of five blooms in the season of tug-of-war. The rotten soil is at the end of the rope, whose dream and drawing is the death of them."

  
Jeonghan almost throws the _jargons_ at him, which are sitting on the high shelves. "Just get the fuck out of my dungeon and come back uninjured."

  
-

  
Two swords are vomited by the upside down ocean — the sky — and they fall into the ground with a _clank!_ as they are being accompanied by the strong winds.

  
Okay, Seungcheol is really really nervous that he forgot that he's the only _other_ brown-eyed devil in here, apart from the poor sinner on the ground. He forgot that there were _two_ of them. He described the situation wrongly. Okay. Sorry! He tries to ease his anxiety by looking at everyone's horns: some had horns like him, some had the horns of an antelope's, and some had small triangles on top of their heads. One pair of horns — that resembled an antelope's — suddenly burst into flames.

  
_Shit!!!!_

  
And before he knew it, someone had pulled him away. _Oh no. SOONYOUNG. HELP._

  
"No! Let go of him!"

  
Soonyoung's hand touch the tips of his fingers but the demons are making barriers. Then, one, two, five. . . Seven more swords rain from the sky and reach the ground. A few demons try to protect themselves, and the others grabbed the swords. One more sword fell from the sky and someone tries to pull Seungcheol's horns off his head.

  
"COUPS!"

  
He reaches for Soonyoung's outstretched hand, but two more rough hands drag the brown-smoked guard away. Soonyoung fights through the crowd and Seungcheol tries to pull away — he manages to break free from the grasp — but one hand catches him again. Seungcheol elbows whoever they are in the crotch area, and they screech in pain.

  
"Who are you to resist?" A demon shouts from the crowd. "Who are _you_ to disobey?!"

  
"Sometimes those who disobey the Law is a freaking demon guard," someone mentions in disappointment. "Are you _really_ doing your job?"

  
More hands grab Seungcheol and some attempted to burn him with their blazing horns. It looked ridiculous, actually, when he thinks about it, but this is not the time to think! They drag him away even further in the Capital.

  
Soonyoung eventually frightens off a few demons, and he makes his way towards Seungcheol, who is being crowded. Oh, _gosh_. Seungcheol yelps when he feels fingers digging to his skin, ripping his clothes, and sinking to his flesh. Blood drips on the floor.

  
_WHERE THE HECK IS JOUSHA?!_

  
Then he feels a hit on the head.

  
_IT'S HIS JOB TO WARN THEM. MAYBE HE REALLY CAN'T PREDICT,_ he thinks as a demon's fangs sink in to his flesh. _Yikes. OUCH._

  
"Don't eat him, idiot! _Bury him!_ "

  
"I said STOP IT," Soonyoung yells, dragging off a few demons away. He kicks and pulls, ripping a few limbs or something based on the weird noises Seungcheol hears.

  
But seriously, Joshua should've warned him. The demons, paired up with the winds, are too strong to fight against!

  
_Sildep_ , Seungcheol never hated him more than he did now. What, he's off being a violet-smoked demon, despite of being a _human?!_ But then technically... wait. How did he get here? Did he solely get here by injuring him or did he do something else?

  
Someone points a sword to his leg and he feels his clothes being ripped again. The sharp end creates a cut on his knee, and he screams in pain.

  
Everything is getting blurry to him now. Everyone's shouting, yelling, and there are hands around him and he's being pulled away to nowhere and the winds are being stupid _catalysts_ and he's getting tired — Soonyoung's doing his best by reaching up to him but Seungcheol's close to giving up. He should've brought his spear, but then again, he isn't exactly on guard duty. _Stupid_.

  
A purple piece of paper flies in his vision and one demon catches it — "Hey, give that to me!" Soonyoung yells as he fights with other demons — and it takes a few seconds for Seungcheol to recognize it's the post-it Chan found. The accurate drawing of him is mocking him silently — _I'm alive and okay, and you're being dragged away!_ — but Seungcheol notices the little cloud drawing on the top left of the Seungcheol-drawing. . . and the plus sign in the middle of the post-it. . . and the post-it that Joushak can't read on the right side. . .

  
All thoughts disappear when someone puts their hand on his throat. He feels one of the swords slash his palm open.

  
"Where're the other swords?!"

  
"They're _scattered_ on the ground!"

  
Swords. . . scattered. . . _scattered swords._

  
_Sildep's horns._ They reach an open area — grasslands, he feels sharp lines tickling his bare feet — and he remembers the first thing he had drawn on the post-it. _Scattered swords_. Is this the consequence?

  
"Hey. Hello," a calm tone surfaces over the chaos, "may I take it from here?"

  
The heads of the demons turn to where the voice originated, and with the small space it allocated, allowed Seungcheol to see who said that, too. And it's none other than Juashoua, noticeable with his bleached-blonde hair and horns-headband.

  
He's still wearing that?

  
But what's worse is that there's already a dug-up hole in the ground, where he would be buried; Joushau is holding a shovel; and a few feet away, there's a sword.

  
A few more words — and Seungcheol feels himself being thrown to the ground. Then both Joushau and another demon pick him up to toss him inside the dug-up hole. Closing his eyes, he accepts can't move anymore out of too much exhaustion.

  
"Well, well, look who's here."

  
He opens his eyes, scared that he might see who he thinks he'll see. . . He knows it's him. _Hopefully it's not true, though_.

  
"Is that you? Koush—"

  
"No duh," Joshua answers. When he crouches down to look at the other more closely, the latter finds out he has _violet rings_ around the dark brown pupils. "Of course it's you. I thought you were dead for a while back there."

  
Joshua stands up, and starts shoveling the soil back to the ground. His feet had dirt on it already. _Oh no_. He forces himself to look up and he sees the sky, still like an upside down ocean.

  
Everything is now filtered blue.

  
"STOP THAT!" Soonyoung's voice hovers around the area. "YOU TRAITOR, STOP THAT!"

  
To Seungcheol's surprise, Joshua drops the shovel on the ground, reaching out two hands: one to Joshua's right, and the other, directing to Seungcheol, on the ground.

  
"Thank goodness for booth set-ups, you know?" Joshua says conversationally as if they weren't in the middle of chaos. "Hey, Hosh! Hold my hand!"

  
"Why?!" He hears Soonyoung ask from the distance.

  
"Because I predicted this would happen."

  
In a flash, Seungcheol gets pulled up from the ground, and Soonyoung gets pulled by Joshua, then the blonde human pushes them away and pulls purple dust from his pocket — he puts them on his hand and blows them, like he's blowing a kiss — and the strong winds allowed the purple dust to scatter in the heart of the Land of Apathy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're confused with how the predictions occured (because they can be vague in execution, sorry for my poor writing) don't hesitate to ask!


	9. Pre:sage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jargons are different here.

_A week ago, Day 23 of Seungcheol's thirty-day rest_

In one of the stone-built dungeons of Capital Two: _Pride_ — where the red-smoked demons reign pridefully — a fortune teller, with bleached blonde hair, sits on the floor, observing something lined on the high shelves: little dragons in small jars flying inside freely.

  
Joshua knows he had seen those before. . . A vague image of milkshakes appear in his head. . . and suddenly, the sound of _fork sliding against a chalkboard_ echoes in the dungeons. That is the sound of the door of this specific dungeon being opened.

  
He inhales but doesn't look away from the jars filled with little dragons. One of them, colored in blue and yellow, flies down towards the edge of the jar to... _point_ at something next to it: a sword, placed haphazardly on the shelf, with the sharp end pointing to the same jar.

  
_Scattered swords_ , Joshua recalls. The blue and yellow dragon swims upward in the air and collides with the one in orange and green.

  
"Those are called jargons. It means Jar Dragons. That's our, uh, currency."

  
Joshua looks up to see Jeonghan, a red-smoked demon, arrive. Only he would like to have an office in the freaking dungeons. He's also one of those with human-like appearances, and is the _only_ non-halfbred human-looking demon with _red_ eyes. Like shining rubies. "Ah. That's why it seems so familiar."

  
Jeonghan smirks. "You look both dumb and sophisticated when you do that."

  
"Do what?"

  
"Sit on the floor with your fakeass horns-headband. Everyone who has encountered humans know so fucking well that your shitty headpiece must've costed a few coins." Jeonghan responds, pulling the chair in front of a table with a map on it. "Go sit across from me. I'll give you the inside tour of Hell."

  
What?

  
Jeonghan ignores his confused demeanor, as he tries to wrap a string around his own finger. Unlike humans, his finger turns into a shade of _blue_ rather than red.

  
Then he pulls the string away and whips his hand with it.

  
"What?" He looks at Joshua, whipping his hand repeatedly with the string. "Are you just gonna sit there?"

  
Joshua stands up. "Um, I've been... um, are you sure? I was asking a demon for an inn, and I was brought here." He bites his lip in confusion, scolding himself for not following his predictions — _again_.

  
"Hey, I'm trying to be nice, the other dungeons are available for you to sleep in, that's the closest _inn_ I can offer." He waves a dismissive hand. "Anyway. You, as a violet-smoked demon, will be part of the intelligence authority, and I don't want our race to be done and over with, so that's why I'm giving you a background."

  
He throws the string inside a trash can. Something creeps in Joshua's mind, like the string was directly thrown in his head.

  
"I don't think I'll be staying here for too long, but thank you for the help." He sits down across from Jeonghan, his mind forming possible reasons on why the heck Jeonghan wants to help him. But he obeys anyway, and listens to what he was told.

  
Jeonghan tells him about the Underworld, about the ups and downs and ins and outs — such as cheats in public transportation, Sildep's affair issues, inter-creature scandals, and even times of large famine —

  
"Our current situation, which is the..." he taps his finger on the map, "the..."

  
"Economic crisis?" Joshua offers. Jeonghan snaps his fingers. "Yeah, that. Um, we're currently experiencing famine right now, because as you can see... um, one example of the famine—or the side effects of the econ crisis that we're experiencing right now—can be found on the trees; the trees aren't bearing any leaves, because they're demanding for some payment, so now they're habitat for the birds. But that's mostly from the trees in Capital Five: _Greed_. The other trees remain dormant and are dead. Oh! Another trivia: that's how karma works here, it can work in the form of trees."

  
"Does that mean you guys are like... herbivores?"

  
Jeonghan raises both of his eyebrows.

  
"Herbivores."

  
"Hereby what?"

  
"Her—bi—vores?" Joshua repeats slowly.

  
Jeonghan frowns. "Verobies? What? I'm sorry, can't pronounce that." He points to himself. "Not human."

  
Joshua suppresses a laugh. "Okay, never mind. I was just asking if you guys, like, prefer plants."

  
"Ah, _no_ — those leaves aren't leaves. They're death threats that look like a leaf. And sometimes, when a tree has fruits, they taste like..." Jeonghan makes hand motions that let his hand do a clapping motion in a way that they never touch, "crunchy... crunchy revenge. But the taste of those fruits are different depending on which Capital you're from."

  
Joshua feels his ears perk up. He had seen the word Capital around here before.

  
"Yeah, the Underworld is divided into fourteen capitals. The first seven," Jeonghan points to a large area on the map, "are the seven deadly sins. The next seven are common sins."

  
-

  
The days pass by and Joshua meets Jeonghan in the one of the stone-built dungeons of Capital Two: Pride. They talk about the Capitals and landmarks and things-to-avoid. They talk about sins and character and beliefs. They talk about ranks. About healing. About punishment. About currency. Joshua learns that one jar can have a maximum of fourteen jargons, depending on their size. One jar is equivalent to a wallet, hence, it can be called as "a devil's wallet for the day."

  
It's like scheduled money. Joshua finds that idea difficultly interesting.

  
On one of their breaks, Joshua looks at the jargons — at the blue-and-yellow one, specifically, and sees itself fly and curve around vertically, just above the fire produced by the orange-and-green one.

  
For a split second, it appeared like a question mark. . .

  
Jeonghan arrives again, the door producing fork-on-a-chalkboard sound. He frowns as he walks over to the table. "I don't really understand why DK can't eat his own fire yet," he mutters. "The blue-and-yellow one, I mean."

  
Joshua smiles politely in reply, too busy thinking about the question mark.

  
-

  
_Day 30, a few hours ago_

"And _this_ , Joshua, is Capital Seven. It's alternatively titled as the _Town of Lust_." Jeonghan points to the said town on the map. "It's the... uh, last of the Deadly Sin places. The next fourteen are already common sins."

  
"What's with the devils in Seven?"

  
"...They are as you name them. Most things here are, uh, pleasant, and everyone is figuratively witty as long as they're sexual innuendoes. For those who aren't Sevens, you might get surprised with sudden flirtations, but," Jeonghan shrugs, "what's harassment in our dictionary is a normal activity to them. So, you know, we all usually avoid them. But, uh, they can be polite though, they're _just_ flirty, not forceful. Once you say no, they stop — that's a common trait with them and the Tens, the Apathetic ones: if it doesn't concern them, then they're out."

  
"I've been in Seven, though, because someone from the Headache Library recommended me to try some of their milkshakes." Joshua recalls the memory. "It was _so_ nice. I totally had a great time."

  
"Oh, most demons who come there almost never leave."

  
"Luckily I did."

  
Jeonghan stares at him in interest. "What made you leave?"

  
"A dodgeball has traveled too far in the court," Joshua replies, secretly meaning he had been _dodging_ his original purpose in the Underworld for too long. He doesn't even know where Seungcheol is, and it's been a month.

  
Jeonghan makes a _tsk_ sound.

  
"So, you said something about Capital Ten, right?" Joshua changes the subject, hoping not to annoy Jeonghan, the _only_ one who's nice enough to help him and by prediction, a trustworthy being in the long run.

  
"Capital Ten is the _Land of Apathy_."

  
"How would I know if I'm there?"

  
Jeonghan looks up at the ceiling for a few seconds, and Joshua can't help but admire the way his horns look like — like pointed tree trunks curling at the end — and when Jeonghan looks back at him, Joshua catches his eyes in time. The fortune teller smiles.

  
"A notable place is... the Headache Library. I heard from a few others you were from there?"

  
"Oh, right. I, um, got there."

  
"Then whatever sin you did, it must be out of apathy. Or maybe because you didn't care too much." Jeonghan points at the Capital Ten on the map. "I don't know if you noticed or anything, but, uh, most demons don't notice _this_ because they're already used to it. In Capital Ten, everyone doesn't care about everyone else, and is _only_ concerned when a situation involves them. So, every establishment _here_ ," he taps the map, "is built for everyone's convenience. _But_ each of the owners in the establishments do not care enough to give out full convenience. Most of the owners build things for their own benefit, anyway, and it just happens that they share it for everyone to earn _jargons_. So that means — all establishments are practically neat except there's one thing holding them back. . . Try Headache Library, for example: it's useful, but eventually, even without reading, you'll get a headache."

  
"Oh. Is that why I always get headaches in the Headache Library?"

  
"Yep, and that's discomfort to you because you're a newcomer. Everyone else is used to it. It's a good thing if you're patient." Jeonghan leans back, watching his jargons with interest as they fly around the little jar. One of them suddenly produces fire, and then it pops away.

  
Joshua looks away. The laws of nature really work different here.

  
"Actually, I heard from a few violets that there's going to be a whipping staged there today. Um, whip with a rope, or maybe a chain, or something else like that."

  
"In Capital Ten?"

  
"Yeah, today. Anyway. Let's take a break, I can't talk anymore," Jeonghan requests, and Joshua nods. He's right. The overload of information almost gave him a headache.

  
For the next few minutes, they both watch the jargons on the shelf.

  
The blue and yellow jargon from earlier breathes fire — it blows — but it doesn't pop away. It stays there, and the side of the jar starts burning. . .

  
The blue-and-yellow jargon suddenly flies away from the fire, and Jeonghan leans forward slowly from his seat when it starts coughing.

  
"They probably tasted bad, I guess it's DK's first time eating its own fire."

  
"DK?" Joshua asks.

  
Jeonghan gives a small, tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, I named it DK. It's my first salary. When I spent it over something, it's gone, but, um, I bought something again a few centuries later — and _it's_ my change." He stands up and reaches for that specific jar — when it's in his arms, he opens the lid, and takes "DK" (the blue-and-yellow dragon) out, leaving the orange-and-green dragon alone before closing the lid. He then puts the jar back to where it belonged on the shelf, and rushes to the table with the map. A sheet of paper is produced from somewhere — that he slaps on the surface of the map — where DK is placed gently.

  
Joshua can still read a few words from the sheet of paper, such as _I'm sorry_ , and _thank you for being accepting of me. . ._

  
Could it be. . ?

  
"Seriously, DK can be, um. . . a handful."

  
"You must be attached to it, huh?"

  
"DK needs me," Jeonghan rips a paper in half for it to be DK's makeshift blanket. "I don't have anything in return when I take care of it, especially since DK's the only jargon I can't take away — and I don't want to take away, too, I guess."

  
"It needs you?"

  
"Yeah, um, it's always worried."

  
"How do you know that?"

  
The pieces start to form in Joshua's mind. He prevented himself to look at Jeonghan in horror. _Keep it calm, Joshua_. The string that Jeonghan played with the first time, the sword with an end pointed to the jargon, the 'question mark,' and DK's nature of character was all he needed. _For Pete's sake._

  
"Well, I'm Jeonghan, you nortufe letter," he replies without looking at him. Then he closes the window, allowing the air inside to suffocate DK the jargon enough.

  
Joshua widens his eyes.

  
"Sorry. I can't really pronounce that. Words like those take us _weeks_ to learn." Jeonghan smiles sheepishly. "Anyway, we'll resume tomorrow. I want to help DK."

  
Joshua now found his new prediction: Seungcheol didn't understand the post-it. He — or they —didn't understand how the prediction would execute. How? DK's worried nature is similar to Seungcheol's. The sword points to DK, and DK pointed to the sword, calling Joshua's attention, meaning Seungcheol's "torture" is going to happen. The question mark indicated confusion, or non-understanding.

  
And moreover, in wherever they are, there's a whipping. Oh, no. Joshua decides to prioritze the whipped victim/s, too.

  
"It's okay," he manages to speak, "I have to go."

  
"Where're you headed?"

  
"To Capital Ten."

  
"Ah, we haven't discussed that one yet, right?" Jeonghan gently places DK away, and points to the map. "Here's your destination, and to get there, like I said, we have to. . ?"

  
"Use the train?"

  
"Correct, but that's not all." Jeonghan stands up to get jargons in one jar. He hands it to Joshua. "Keep that for transportation. No need to pay me back. Let's continue."

  
-

  
"And that's how you get to Capital Ten," Jeonghan says, folding the map. "Beware of the Fives when you get to the train, they can get greedy with the seats."

  
"Thanks, Jeonghan. I'll be back soon, if I don't get killed in the crowd."

  
"What crowd?"

  
"The fruit of five blooms in the season of tug-of-war. The rotten soil is at the end of the rope, whose dream and drawing is the death of them." 

  
Jeonghan almost throws the jargons at him, which are sitting on the high shelves. "Just get the fuck out of my dungeon and come back uninjured."


	10. Pre:tentious

"Oh no, is she okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry, she's breathing." Soonyoung drops his hand and looks up at Joshua. The female demon, who was being whipped no longer than minutes ago, was hidden from everyone behind some building, courtesy of Joshua. "You think you can help her?"

"I'm a fortune teller, not a medic." 

"Fine. Was just asking." 

"He..." she suddenly speaks up, but her voice is low and quiet, "he did... 'nuff. Is fine."

"You mean, this guy?" Seungcheol points at Joshua and she nods once. He frowns at this. "That explains why he's acting smug."

"Coups, just let it go." 

"Fine." 

Seungcheol inspects her bruises with a frown. "I don't think this hurts. It's not as worse as fixing unfixable mugs everyday."

"Coups, just shut the fuck up."

"Capital Two has a medic. They're prideful for that." Seungcheol gently takes the demon sinner by the arms. "They want to be good at everything."

"Isn't that in Five? In Greed?" 

"Oh, gosh, I thought you were to say Greece!" 

"Joushak, you're not needed in this conversation." Seungcheol glares at him. Then looks back at Soonyoung. "Let's forget about the whole eating thing — I think there's none left, anyway — and use our jargons for transportation."

"Jargons circulate and benefit no one," Soonyoung mutters under his breath. 

"What are you talking about?"

Seungcheol stands up and pushes Joshua, allowing the latter to stumble slightly and miss his balance. The demon guard smiles at that for a second. "You killed me, you left me, so now, this is your fault."

"Is it?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Sorry," Joshua says, void of sincerity yet done conversationally. 

It concerns him that the fortune teller doesn't react negatively in the slightest. He decides to drop it. There are far more important things to think about right now. He suddenly steps on something and there's a yelp. Turns out it's Soonyoung's foot.

"Ho, shit, sorry!"

Joshua shakes his head and Seungcheol feels pathetic. 

"It's fine!"

Seungcheol gives Soonyoung a sheepish expression and when he looks at Joshua again, the latter has no expression except for a raised brow. 

"You're a smug mustard, you know that?"

"Mustard..?"

"So now you're mocking me. Listen, Josajs, _this — I know this place like it's the back of my hand._ I lived here long enough." 

"Yeah, but you were unconscious for a month, what do you know about current events?" 

"You—!"

They hear a soft groan. "...Do you think _he_ forgot?"

All heads turn to where the voice came from -- it was from the female demon sinner. She slowly sits up, while her horns hit a few things here and there. Seungcheol almost offers help. _Almost._ But he didn't want to be like her, like them, who are mocked for offering help.

_But it's his job!!!!!_

"Who forgot?" Soonyoung asks, as he fixes his hair. His beret seems full of his own sweat now. 

"...Sil _dep_..."

"Forgot what?"

The female demon sinner looks confused, probably on why the hell Soonyoung doesn't get what she's talking about. "I mean, forgot— forgot what happened? Because, if you guys aren't arguing so much you would've noticed _he_ isn't making a move anymore... see?" 

Seungcheol's eyes widen. _The hell?_

"Cool, I guess." Soonyoung yawns, standing up. "Now let's get you bandaged up. You can't transport, right?"

"Not right now... no."

When they left the back of the building, they were met with confused demons, scattered limbs, a few swords, and a bright, red sky. 

The four of them pretend they don't know anything. But when Seungcheol looks at Joshua, he sees the latter pinching his bottom lip with two of his fingers. Like he's thinking. Like he's looking for a prediction. Or maybe like he's looking for something to say. 

Or maybe he's just a big of a fraud, and now he's looking through his fancy vocabulary to fool everyone again. 

Seungcheol walks faster and offers help to the female demon sinner. He doesn't want associations with that selfish, arrogant pencil with fakeass horns headband.   
  
  


-  
  
  


They walk to the train station like this: the three demons are ahead, and Joshua is behind. The two demon guards, specifically, are having a hushed conversation, and it's no doubt about Joshua. 

They pass by stores and establishments, and it's safe to say Joshua is getting more and more frustrated each time. Some places are too loud, some places are too bright, some places have jumpscares even when you're just a passerby and — for goodness' sake. 

"Siiiiiiir?" Someone stands in front of Joshua with a fork, with horns like an antelope's. "Siiiiir, please stay....." 

The three demons continued walking, like they didn't hear anything. Joshua decides to leave as soon as possible, but he doesn't want to be rude — and this fork demon is blocking his way by spreading arms. 

He pokes Joshua with the fork. "DON'T LEAVE!" 

Joshua tries leaving again. He pokes using the fork — again. 

"NOOOO! STAYYYY WITH ME, SIIIIIR!" 

"No, I'm sorry." 

"HE SAID SORRY!" That fork demon said, standing up properly and hitting Joshua's eye in the process with one of his antelope horns. "SIR SAID SORRY!!!!!" 

"Shut up, bird brain!" Someone else shouts from a music store — but the only customers allowed are those who have no ears. 

"YA DON'T HAVE EARS, YA CANNOT HEAR ME!"

"You're standing too close to me to scream," Joshua mutters, stepping back. 

"STAY WITH ME, SIIIIIR!" Fork demon says with a grin. "STAY WITH MEEEEEE!"

This really is hell. Hell for those who aren't apathetic. Hell for those who care. But Joshua does his best and is happy that he kept his patience meter high for a long time.

"Okay, what's your deal?" 

"Ya road," the fork demon says, scoffing. "Not polite anymore, like a few seconds ago when you guys were walking and you're not complaining even though you like a fake. I'm bored. Leave, and be gone, faker!" 

Joshua does leave, with a sense of relief, but he looks forward and he sees Soonyoung looking at him in disappointment. He jogs to move closer.

"Hey!" He calls, almost tripping. "I'm sorry, they blocked my way and I couldn't—"

"You know we have a schedule," Soonyoung interrupts, crossing his hands. "For Sildep's sake, be faster, alright? Don't think you're too special. No one's gonna wait for you."

"Sorry," Joshua says, and he follows them. Nobody responds, and the walk to the train station stays silent.   
  
  


\-   
  
  


Presently, the four — including the whipped up demon sinner — are by the train station. Joshua had her freed in the crowd while Seungcheol was being pulled. It took a lot of effort for someone who wasn't physically used to doing this type of action. 

"So, um. Have we decided where we're headed?"

Joshua doesn't get a response, again. 

Soonyoung frees the jargons and pours them inside an aquarium — for some reason Joshua doesn't understand, ways of payment are absolutely bizzare here — while Seungcheol makes his way inside with the female demon sinner. Joshua stands there awkwardly, not knowing what to do with two angry demon guards in the train station. 

"Hoshi?" Joshua tries again.

Soonyoung doesn't respond and pockets the jar in his jacket. 

"Can the two of you quit being childish?" Joshua said, in a much louder voice this time, but it doesn't get attention because it's a common happening. Demons pass by them in different directions and there's no way in hell Soonyoung still heard him, but he does. Anyway. Joshua is almost getting annoyed, but he tries to maintain a calm demeanor. _Just like usual,_ he tells himself. _Just like usual in that stupid booth._ "Hoshi, Seungcheol? You asked me to be here. I don't even know how to get out, so kindly stop being assholes. You don't dare give me the fucking excuse that being assholes is in your nature, because, _for the love of God_ , you could've at least learned to adjust to your surroundings, little bitches." 

Seungcheol glares at him from inside the train station, beyond the entrance. "Why are you getting us in trouble?!"

"Don't say 'for the love of...'" Soonyoung makes a _shh_ sound with his index finger. "Learn how to adjust to your surroundings, little bitch."

"Nothing's gonna happen," Joshua says calmly. He had Sildep forget what literally just happened, anyway. Or so he likes to think. A worrying hand touches his brain, and Joshua does his best to high-five it and push it away. 

Soonyoung reluctantly gets the jar again, and he pours out another jargon and lets it swim happily inside the aquarium. 

"Get in."

Joshua moves past the revolving door thing and gets hit by some purse, and the female demon sinner tells him weakly that it always happens for those who were 'too loud.' 

What a beautiful day! 

The four, with the female demon sinner being assisted by Seungcheol, headed towards where the trains are. It's a fifteen minute walk, for some selfish reason, most probably, from the train station entrance to _that_ place. The train station itself is quite hot, due to being crowded, but still has some open air. 

_The Science here is illogical_ , Joshua thinks. 

"Almost there," the female demon sinner says quite loudly to be heard by Joshua. "There's free food inside if you're hungry."

"That sounds great," Joshua says, offering a smile to the only one who isn't an asshole. 

The train arrives very late, though. It's red and inside there are cushioned seats with what the female demon sinner described as "seats with surprise features" and Joshua realizes too late — as well — that the cushioned seats would have something uncomfortable for each sitter — like unfinished gum or remote controls, or in Joshua's case, _mixtapes,_ which reminds him of his Johnny Hates Jazz songs back home — and that the free food thing is a piece of made up bullshit. 

"TWENTY SIT UPS FOR THAT CANDY!" is what Joshua hears right on his ear when he gets one candy that was offered to him. "NOW, BOY! GO!" 

"Um." _The fuck._

The female demon sinner, sitting oppositely from him, _laughs_. She laughs so carefree, so youthful, so serene, that if they were in a different situation he could've told her off. 

Soonyoung, who is sitting diagonally from him, doesn't seem to care, as he only looks at the windows. And Seungcheol, who is sitting next to Joshua, and next to the window as well, shrugs. 

"Hey, Josusjs," he says suddenly. 

Joshua is desperate for a public distraction so that this train staff can leave. "Yeah?"

"Did you know that the word _gullible_ isn't declared as an official word?"

_What?_ "Really?"

Seungcheol laughs. "I was kidding, but you believed me."

"TWENTY SIT-UPS, NOW!" 

Joshua has had enough, but he does the twenty sit-ups, anyway.


	11. Cannot Pre:vent

The train ride didn't seem to bother Joshua after those twenty sit-ups. 

Or maybe it did, but Seungcheol will never know, not unless Joshua speaks up and stops freaking smiling every five seconds they landed in Capital Two: Pride. 

"Too much walking. And there's another problem, too. The hospital's a little far away, so we need to walk," Soonyoung informs all of them when they were standing outside of the train station. It's quite hot and with the dominating establishments here at Capital Two, it can be really difficult to look for someone that's... humble enough to give space. That last sentence doesn't making any fucking sense but Seungcheol's tired and hungry. 

"Sure thing," Joshua mutters. The female demon sinner suddenly sighs and he looks at her. "Do you need help?" 

"No, I can handle it." She tries to stand up but fails. Joshua offers a hand, and Seungcheol doesn't miss how his sclera — and _not_ pupils — transform into a shade of violet. 

Then it's back to dark brown. Seungcheol calls, _Chan..._

She takes it. "You're fast."

"Can you get up?"

"Now I can, yeah. Thanks for your help."

"Anytime." 

Soonyoung was still tired, with his hands on his knees. 

"So, um, while waiting..." Joshua looks at her again. "I never got your name."

"Oh, we demon sinners have our names erased. It's not important right now." 

"How can I call you?"

"You don't have to call me anything." 

"Okay." Joshua gives a short, rough chuckle, and it feels weird to hear him make that sound. To Seungcheol, at least. She laughs too, with the same carefree and serene-sounding one. 

The fraud begins, "Why are you laughi—"

_Too much talking._ Seungcheol feels annoyed. "Are we going or not?"

"Fine, I've gathered my strength. I'll lead the way. You two, assist her if she needs help." Soonyoung stands up straight and walks forward. 

Capital Two is... nothing much like Capital Ten. There are establishments that are put to the extreme, with a couple of aesthetics presented differently in each one. They pass by the book store and judging from the titles, they were of quality. Even the food stands have the best smell. 

It's not unclean, it's not imperfect, it's actually quite nice compared to Ten. Nobody's jumpscaring every few seconds, there is nothing scattered, and everyone cares about their outputs so everything has quality. It's beautiful. 

"I like it here," the female demon sinner says appreciatively, as Seungcheol holds her right arm. "I had worked for someone before. They're researchers and they're studying about language." 

"They like linguistics?" Joshua asks conversationally. 

"Yeah. I happen to learn how to spell and stuff like that from them. What's your name again?"

"Joshua."

"That's.... J-O-S-H... U-A. Is that correct?" 

"Totally. It's perfect." 

When Seungcheol looks to his left, he sees Joshua look up with a smile. It irks him. This must be the innocent act again. Or maybe he's just butthurt. But mainly, he doesn't care that his emotions are all over the place right now because nothing is going right. Or at least, not yet. They left Chan in the Headache Library for goodness' sake to translate Joshua's message, that does not need to be translated anymore as of now. 

They head to the hospital in no time. It's large and primarily colored white, and it's cold, too. The ceilings are high and everything is clean. Demons pass by but everyone seems to be coughing louder than usual. 

A demon child says to her friend, "I'm more sick than you."

"Oh really? Too bad you're not in a fucking wheelchair like me!" 

" _Kids_ ," Seungcheol mutters. It's kind of annoying, so when they reach the stupid reception counter, it's one less burden for him. These type of things doesn't usually happen, nor does it fit his job description with his guarding position, but he's here now, so... he has to go with it. 

"We need a doctor to bandage her up," Soonyoung says to the gray-pupil-eyed receptionist. "It's urgent."

"Bandage?" An eight-foot tall demon doctor passes by, towering over the four of them. "You know, I can do more than just bandage."

"I only need the bandage," the female demon sinner says. "Just wrap that shit on my back and I think we're good."

"No, it doesn't work that way." Another eight-foot tall demon doctor, this time, a female, appears. "You can't just wrap them on your back, especially if you already lost a lot of blood. It's futile for a demon."

The first doctor seems annoyed, but he composed himself. 

"Fine. You do it, then." 

"No discrimination," Soonyoung says menacingly, though he looks adorable because he's looking up at the demons he's threatening. "I'm the military leader of the guards. I may be average, but I have connections with a lawyer." 

"I don't think you have enough money to access them, but alright." The second one shrugs. "Give her to me so we can bandage her up."

The two doctors leave along with her, with the demon sinner holding the female doctor's hand, and Soonyoung looks at the gray-pupil-eyed receptionist. "How many jargons will this need?"

"Let's see the results and decide how many can you give." She grins. 

Soonyoung makes a face. 

_They're running out of jargons to pay_ , Seungcheol wanted to say, but he didn't.   
  
  


-  
  
  


The three — Soonyoung, Seungcheol, and Joshua — are currently sitting on the comfortable seats of the waiting room, with the military leader sleeping and the fortune teller shuffling cards. The demon guard, however, is doing nothing. 

Until his stomach grumbles and with the silence of the room, Joshua succeeds in noticing it. He drops his head and the person to his right, the fraud, stops shuffling cards. 

Seungcheol sees two hands and brown light on one of them. Now, that's oddly specific. 

"You hungry?"

"What do you think. . ." Seungcheol looks at the floor again.

"Stop acting like a child."

Seungcheol looks at him once and pulls his horns headband down. It falls on the floor. 

But Joshua just chuckles again. Seungcheol immediately feels like he needs to pick up the headband, so he does, and he gives it back to the fraud, who puts it back on his head. 

"Thanks. I take it that you're hungry? You're not this nice." Joshua pulls out his cards. "Fine, here. Pick a card and maybe you'll get entertained."

"Um. . . That's horrible logic. I'm hungry, I don't need entertainment." 

"No duh."

_"No duh,"_ Seungcheol mimics, making his pitch higher. "You studied linguistics but that's literally the only thing you say!" 

"Just pick a card, demon."

"Why? If I pick one, will you make it happen for me?"

"No, I can only let you know that it _will_ happen, but I can't really say it would. I'm an interpreter, not a king."

Seungcheol picks a card, and he lifts it up for the fraud to see. "There."

It's a card with a picture of a fire. 

Joshua doesn't react, but it's clear that he's thinking, which makes Seungcheol roll his eyes. 

"Sildep, I'm really hungry." 

"Get another one. I see something but..."

Seungcheol gets another one in a flash and lifts it up. It's a card with two hands, holding a head. He gives a sweet smile. "The fuck is this?" 

"Uh. . ."

"What's your prediction?"

Joshua doesn't seem comfortable, despite the stoic expression. He's spacing out; the sclerae of his eyes are slowly coloring violet. Seungcheol reminds himself again that Joshua is a freaking human and yet... 

Or maybe this is the effect of being in another world where you aren't supposed to be? He's a human, and he's here for a month. Sildep. The day hasn't even ended and a lot of shit happened. Poor guy. And poor Cheol too, because... he just fucking woke up a few hours ago. He had no food for days. 

Self-pitying demon guard loser. 

"Joahsja?"

Joshua looks at him again, and he seems attentive, violet eyes and all. "Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

"You're hungry. Um. You have to eat. How long are they gonna bandage her?"

"It'll take time to heal so she has to be charged in here or something like that."

"Like humans."

"Yeah, like you." The words feel natural rolling off his tongue. "Anyway, I'm really hungry."

"Of course. You're not gonna be nice if you aren't." 

Seungcheol gives Joshua the sweetest smile for sarcasm, so the fraud rolls his eyes. "Anyway, Demon. I've been living in this Capital for a while now..." _that explains the smugness,_ "and I can show you some places to eat. Wake Hoshi up, we're gonna go." 

"Wait! We don't have much jargons."

"We don't need them." Joshua leans forward, crossing Seungcheol, to wake the military leader up. "Hey, good evening. We're gonna eat, my treat!" 

Soonyoung does wake up, and he seems a bit dazed. 

"We're gonna eat, Hoshi, my treat!" 

Soonyoung looks at the demon guard for confirmation. 

"Hosh, I'm just desperate for food." 

And that brings them to the coziest inn-and-restaurant in town, characterized and proud for its _humility,_ for some reason. It's at least eight stories high, with paint-chipped walls and wooden doors. The place is quiet inside, though it's quite packed. Joshua leads the way and sits on a vacant chair, facing a secondhand table and another creaky bench. Seungcheol and Soonyoung sit together opposite from him. 

"Is this free?" Soonyoung asks absent-mindedly. "I don't remember being here."

"I live in the inn upstairs." Then he looks behind them and yells, _"may we order!!!!"_ He looks at the guards again, "they're prideful for being polite and humble." 

"You're a traitorous fraud, you know that?" Seungcheol points a finger at him. "I told you this was a secret!"

"I couldn't find you, I'm sorry—"

"...joisha. That's not an excuse!"

"Yes, it is, if you _let_ it. Stop complicating things."

Seungcheol feels betrayed, at some point. "You know, the twenty sit-ups thing wasn't enough."

"Including the gullible joke?" Joshua clasps his hands together. "Seriously, you should just stop being childish and let the matter go for once. How old are you? _Five_?" 

" _And one month_ —older than you, that's how old I am." 

"Oh? How do you know that?" 

Seungcheol recalls the time wherein he was conversing with Soonyoung as they made their way to the train station. "Just a lucky guess. I must be smart." 

"Coups and Hosuaha, _shut the hell up._ " Soonyoung glares at the both of them. "You, Coups, will be back to regular programming tomorrow. Checking bags with a spear. You missed your post for days and, fittingly, Capital Two's guards covered for you. Because they're, and I quote, 'bida-bida.'"

"They're _what_?"

"It's a Filipino slang expression for... um... someone who's... someone who wants to be on the spotlight for a specific something." Soonyoung takes off his beret. "I don't really know, man. I traveled there once and that's what I picked up." 

"So...? What does this mean for me?" 

"You're gonna guard this place. And this will be your post for a few days, maybe? After this whole thing, I'll be heading back to Ten and be with Dino, and... you get to stay here. The _bida-bida_ guards of Two are way too exhausted to come back to and fro, and to and fro _again,_ so until further notice. You'll be here."

_Sildep!_

Seungcheol can do nothing but exhale reluctantly. 

"Oh, you look like you're having trouble breathing! Don't be too dramatic!" 

"What about my things, Hosh?" 

Soonyoung looks at Joshua. "He says he lives here, so he has connections." 

"This is so stupid."

"I can get you a space," Joshua offers. Seungcheol watches in horror as he stands up and talks to the bar demon without a second thought. 

"Wow, I'm impressed! That was fast." Soonyoung raises his hand. "And, yeah, can we order already?"

"What? Is there a menu?!"

Soonyoung points to the menu engraved on the table. "It's there!"

Seungcheol feels stupid. "Right. But." He pauses to wait until Soonyoung finishes yelling their orders, knowing what the other demon guard wants. "You're selling my soul to _that_ devil?"

Soonyoung looks at him like he grew three heads. "We're devils, Coups." 

"I don't have jargons."

"Jsoshdn can handle it!"

"I can sleep in the streets—" 

"Don't let the opportunity go to waste, Coups."

Sildep. This is all too fast! 

Joshua comes back with a tray of three mugs. He places each mug before each one of them. "I got you a room."

"I don't—"

"You're a guard, it's fine."

"I don't have my things, or my spear."

"They can give you some."

Seungcheol lightly taps the table, spilling the liquid from his own mug. "Jouahs, come on. This is against my _will._ "

"You won't be seeing me! For Pete's sake. Stop being so dramatic. If you get on your shifts you won't even remember I'm here!"

"Hopefully!" 

Seungcheol holds on to that.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_Joshua_ **   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**J O S H U A**   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A few hours ago, in the hospital's waiting room, Joshua was shuffling his cards. He counted to three until he got his final one to interpret.   
  


He had gotten the horns card.   
  


Another shuffle. Another pick. 

The empty plate card. 

Another shuffle. Another pick. 

The crystal ball card. Then Seungcheol's stomach grumbled then. And that's Joshua's cue. After all, the chosen cards meant that the demon was going to pick what he can predict next. Joshua thought Seungcheol had the power, but when Seungcheol chose his cards, it seemed like the power only reflected back.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_PLEASE STAY._ **


End file.
